It was the Monday after the British Open at Troon last year and I was heading out of Heathrow Airport on a flight bound for Bilbao. And one of the first faces I saw on the plane was that of JoseMaria Olazabal.

After the unbelievable thrill of himself and Seve (Ballesteros) carrying a cake up to me at Mount Juliet on my birthday in 1993, I said to him: "I'll bet you don't remember me." To which he replied with a grin: "Of course. You have a birthday soon."

He was about three weeks late, but it didn't matter. As it happened, I was on my way to meet the other half of the famous Spanish Armada. As a result of the Shell Wonderful World of Golf match between Tom Watson and Fred Couples at Mount Juliet earlier that month, I was invited to a similar match at Pedrena.

This was a hastily organised affair in which the rival Ryder Cup captains, Seve and Tom Kite, would play each other. Anyway when the plane landed in Bilbao, Ollie headed off for San Sebastian and I went to Pedrena in the same car as Kite and his wife Christy.

But there was a problem: all of my luggage had gone missing. So I had to make a mad dash to buy a substitute outfit for a special dinner that evening. Without any Spanish, all I kept saying was "Pronto", "Pronto". The shop-girl got the message.

Anyway, I was seated opposite Seve at dinner and, yes, he also remembered my birthday. Then on the following day, I followed the match. My heart went out to him. He had a horrendous time, hitting the ball in all directions. I reckon he got up and down 12 times on the way to a 77, while Kite played very solidly for a 67.

A game was then arranged for me with Seve's wife Carmen, on the Wednesday. And since my luggage still hadn't arrived, I had to play with borrowed clubs. We were joined by Phil Bough, a six-handicapper who was working with Jack Nicklaus Productions.

It was a fascinating round, not least for the extraordinary contrast in the way Carmen played, as compared to her husband. Off 14, she had the most incredible long game: I don't think she missed a fairway. But when it came to putting, she was absolutely dreadful. The contrast was unbelievable.

I couldn't help suggesting to her that given the way Seve was playing at that time, they would be a great combination if she did the driving and he did the putting. "Yes, we know," she replied with a smile. I gathered I wasn't the first to make that observation.

She was absolutely charming company, a very warm person who seemed to be delighted with the opportunity of being able to have a relaxed conversation about things other than golf.

Afterwards, she invited me for drinks in their magnificent house, overlooking the harbour. And I was taken into the trophy room where, among other things, I saw the replicas of the Augusta clubhouse which Seve got for his two US Masters victories. They were of particular interest to me, having had the good fortune to play the course on two occasions, in 1993 and 1996.

The following day I headed for home, just as my baggage arrived in Bilbao Airport. In fact it was taken off one plane and then put directly onto another. Meanwhile, the small holdall that I had been using during the trip had now gone missing.

It transpired that I had left it in Kite's car and by the time I got home, he had already been on from Texas to say that the bag was in his possession.

The trip to Pedrena hadn't quite gone to schedule, but it undoubtedly ranks among my most fascinating experiences in golf.