I toured through all the popular locations across the course where the great shots have been played in Masters history – Bubba’s wedge from the trees beside the 10th fairway last year, the spot where Larry Mize chipped-in on 11 to kill Norman’s chances in 1987, the pines on 13 where Phil Mickelson hit the greatest shot of his life in 2010 en route to winning the Green Jacket. In future years, first-time visiting Aussies will no doubt spend some time beside the 10th green and recall where they were when Adam Scott holed that putt to win the Masters.

Augusta National, without thousands of patrons lining its fairways, is quite serene. I sat on my own in the stand lining the length of the 16th tee for nearly 30 minutes and could picture in my mind Jack Nicklaus nailing his tee shot close in 1986 and the roar that followed, or Norman finding the water a decade later and Tiger Woods chipping in from behind the green in 2005. Interrupting my daydream was two-time Masters champion Bernhard Langer, who was out on course for a practice round with an Augusta member. Playing in front of a gallery of one, Langer produced a wonderful tee shot that came within an inch or two of going in the hole. His playing partner on the other hand emulated Norman’s tragic tee shot of 17 years ago.

Over the next six days I became just another Masters patron, albeit in a working capacity. Arriving at the course each day at dawn and leaving sometimes after midnight, as was the case after the final round, I was like a kid let loose in Disneyland.

The practice days are relaxed on both sides of the gallery ropes. There is plenty of time to simply follow a couple of groups of players or stalk a lone golfer and watch him work out his game and the Dr Alistair MacKenzie layout. I found one such player in 1998 Masters champion Mark O’Meara, who was out playing on his own and looked like he was just enjoying the fact he had the course to himself.

He reached the 16th tee and, apparently, it has become tradition on practice days for the patrons in the stand to urge players to try to skim a ball over the lake and onto the green of the par-3. O’Meara obliged but his first attempt hit the bank and stayed in the water. He reached into his bag and went again, this time his choked-down 4-iron shot skipped three times across the top of the water, flew onto the green and rolled to within six feet of the flag. O’Meara’s reaction was to tell the appreciative crowd that it wasn’t bad “for an old guy”.

It was the first of many cheers I would hear for the week but it was a long way from the explosive roar that echoed across the layout in the darkness on Sunday night when Scotty rolled in his birdie for the win.

I couldn’t have imagined when I set out on my long-awaited journey to the Masters that it would end like this. My personal bucket list had taken a double hit. Go to Augusta National … gone. See an Australian win the Masters … gone. I, for one, will never forget standing in the rain and joining the throng in applauding Scott who, with Green Jacket on, saluted the crowd after the presentation ceremony. It was the perfect end to the trip of a lifetime.

I couldn’t have picked a better year to go to the Masters. Now I’m hooked and hope I can be there for Scotty’s defence in 2014.