For what it's worth.
My mother and I had planned to take a trip together for a long time, but ovarian cancer intervened, and surgeries, and the like. In the interim, I got married, and on my honeymoon had a chance to play Banff Springs. Played as a single with three Japanese tourists, who were very nice. The course was beautiful and challenging, but that trip, to me, wasn't a "golf trip." It was a honeymoon, and we camped everywhere we went. I might have been the only player at Banff that day who had slept in a tent the night before.
About three months after that, my mother and I finally had a chance to take that trip, to the UK and Ireland. She was weak, and we took it easy, driving from place to place, staying awhile, getting the feel for the places we went. She knew how much I wanted to play at St. Andrews. It was the one destination we knew we were going to get to on the trip. We stayed at a tiny B&B outside of town. Because I couldn't make an advance reservation as a single, I headed to the course early in the morning, a blustery, windy, rainy one. There were already two singles waiting in front of me. Group after group went out with no openings, we waited several hours until there was a string of three-somes that allowed that the waiting, moribund singles to join up. I joined a group, and played very poorly with a truly wretched set of rental clubs.
And had the time of my life.
I returned to the B&B, exalted with the experience of having walked in the footsteps of Morris and Jones and Snead and Hogan and Nicklaus...........and as I pulled into the gravel lot my mom walked out of the front door - she'd waited there, resting up, and the first words out of her mouth was "Did you play it?" - and the fierce look of love on her face, hoping that I'd had a chance to realize a dream, is with me to this day. She'd had an investment in my experience that I hadn't appreciated, until that moment.......
All that said, I've still never been on a "golf trip." Jordan, enjoy that trip with your father.