"currently battling with my dear friend, the Silverstripe CMS" - 18 hours ago
"is thoroughly relaxed at another Irish farmhouse B&B, this time one run by a character and a half, Sharon Moore.... http://fb.me/Fd1zVe5z" - 1 day ago
"Is this the Nellie bunker you were talking about mate? Safely avoided I'm pleased to report http://fb.me/EHAvCmyU" - 2 days ago
Thank God for a decent sleep. Last night 3 of us slept on a single bed, in a coffin of a room. Well, a single bed that we turned into a double bed, by taking the mattress off the base. It was cosy without being comfortable. Just as well Goldy, Jirv and me are good mates. Anyway.
This morning I awoke much fresher, and enjoyed breakfast at Colin's that much more because today's golf course - Sandhurst - was a 3 minute drive away. No stress. In fact, with the sun out in spades, and Colin's cantankerous dog Sam still asleep, I was more relaxed than a Buddhist monk in hibernation. Ahhhh.
Mike and I met the charming Mike Hauser - from Tourism Victoria, who joined us last week down the road at Moonah - in an alleyway of the labyrinth clubhouse at Sandhurst. Either I was still half asleep, or the signposting could have been better, because we had no idea where the entrance was. Eventually we found Michael, and the pro shop (after circumnavigating the entire building, which is very plush by the way). It's the Home of the Australian PGA, so hardly surprising that the facilities were sharp. It looks like they've sold a fair few plots 'round here too (it's a residential development, American styles), no doubt to people mesmerised by the magnetic pull of this great big new building.
There are 2 tracks out here - the North Course (I think the more established of the two), and the Champions Course (designed by Peter Thompson; apparently the tougher of the two). PT likes his bunkers. The Champions Course - like other Thompson courses we've played of late - is full of the bloody things. A lot of them aren't even in play; maybe he just likes the look of 'em.
Michael "I never miss a fairway" Hauser drove the ball - as he did last week - like someone who's hitting fairways to save his life/house/marriage/kids' lives. Even his mishits somehow snuck over bumps and hollows onto the edges of the carpet. Uncanny. His irons were just as deadly on the whole, so Michael (who claims to play off a 15, but next time we play with him I'm asking for proof) knocked it 'round in 84 (a total that could've been a lot lower were it not for a couple of loose ones down the stretch, and a double on 18). Good golf and good banter - who knew Aussies had a sense of humour? He pointed out on one of the par 5s a hallmark of Thompson courses of which I was unaware...purple bouncy castles used as line guides off the tee (there was one in the distance, perched in the back yard of a house plucked right off the set of The Truman Show, marking the perfect line for a thumping drive). Who knew?
The haggle, like the week before, was split 6s. Hauser wanted another crack at us, after I took out the honours at Moonah (Legends). Despite his arrow like driving, I pipped him to the post again, and Michael brought up the rear once more. A record toppled today too, I'm pleased to report: 5 birdies for me (the rest was pretty indifferent but who cares). Goldy had 3. Just as well because the birdie counter was beginning to stagnate (despite Goldy's sterling effort at National (Old) yesterday, with 4).
Sandhurst wasn't the most taxing track, especially when you play it the day after The Leviathon Course at The National (the Old Course, I mean). The development is still in its infancy; Mike and I couldn't help wondering how much the developer would've made here, pawning off section after section peering across Thompson's handywork. What was probably once a humble farm outside Melbourne is now a village in itself - much like Pegasus Town which has sprung up near Christchurch, back in NZ. Amazing the number of people that want to live right on a golf course...
If you play at Sandhurst, take a cart. A few of the holes are separated by 300 metres of pathway (the course presumably having been stretched out so you can plonk more houses "just off the fairway"?). If you play there, stop and check out the big river gums too. They're awesome. Admittedly I like my trees more than your average rooster, but these fings are grand. Must be 2000 years old. Or more. Don't get too close though as I did, because they take big chunks out of your golf ball.
Thanks to Sandhurst and to the PGA for hosting us; and to MH for joining us. A quality morning and a fine way to wrap up our time on the Mornington Peninsula. Tomorrow we head at the crack of dawn to Yarra Yarra, to begin our sandbelt assault. Might be a few more trees to contend with. And city traffic.
JP
After a rather frustrating afternoon I have finally sat down to pen a blog on the magestic National Old course. My new Mac has dropped dead, barely four months into its life, just as I was finishing off a video blog that is nothing short of stunning. Bugger. It is at moments like these you realise how dependent you are on technology.
The National Old course left puregolf2010 rather awestruck yesterday. Joined by our cameraman and supposed member of the Phoenix Foundation, Jirv, we were blessed with a day made for golf. Not a breath of wind and not a cloud in the sky – clichéd stuff but just what we had hoped for at the National. Last time we visited this golfing haven we weren’t blessed with the weather and the now infamous Melbourne storms made the day memorable for all the wrong reasons. That day Jamie blogged about the opulent clubhouse and facilities so I wont repeat the dose, but second time around it was just as impressive.
So to the golf course itself. What a cracker. A stunning beast of a course that you just love to hate. The Old course has been around for at least a decade longer than the newer tracks at the Nash and is that bit more mature. It is also much more penal in that every hole is cut from ti tree and native Aussie bush. If you hit it wide on any hole you are in snake country. As an example, today I missed 4 fairways and played those four holes in 7 over par. Miracle recovery shots just don’t happen at the Old course.
The third hole
The course was designed by Robert Trent Jones Jnr and it is a design that he would be very happy with. The set of par fives are excellent. Three of them are doglegs left and with a good drawing drive over the corner they are reachable in two despite measuring over 500m off the tips (which of course we had to play today). But if the driver is not dialed in on any of these holes it is an automatic reload. So with a two-out-of-three success rate with the big stick I hit 4 iron for my second into two of them, and reloaded from the tee on the other. The other par five, the 8th, begins from a stunning tee block perched high up on the course overlooking the ocean where a blind tee shot is required down a hill to what looks like a 20m wide fairway. Of course it is wider than that but runs out at about 270m from the tee so taking driver is actually nothing short of negligent. Lesson learnt the hard way! From where the fairway runs out there is about 70m of scrub before the short grass resumes on a raised plateau (which is the lay up zone). The tale goes that John Daly managed to carry his drive 340m onto the top level from the tee and hit a mere wedge into the green! But save for John, even long hitters are forced to take it easy on this hole and play it like a real three shot hole.
Looking back down the par 5 5th hole
The front nine is pretty awe inspiring stuff as the holes meander through the scrub. You must have no fear on the tee, trust your swing and ignore the trouble all around. Most holes have million dollar views down across the peninsula and towards the ocean in the distance. And then all of a sudden, after winding through a cart path you find yourself on the 7th tee and the dramatic view takes your breath away. In terms of WOW factor, this is 5 star. As good as it gets. We have seen some sights this year, but standing on the 7th tee got my heart beating just a bit quicker. The hole itself is a cracker. At 130m is a beauty of a short par three (of which I am a huge fan of despite them being a dying breed in new courses) but it is horribly exposed to the wind and surrounded short left and back by a huge ravine. So it is far from easy. I could imagine some fairly handy golfers walking off this hole with a double digit score – although they would still be pretty content after taking in that view. In the calm weather today it was a pleasure for both JP and I to hit a wee 9 iron into the clear blue sky and calmly two putt for a regulation par. The entire set of par threes are brilliant in terms of design and variety: the 4th requires a downhill 165m shot over water (again all whilst trying to take in stunning views across the peninsula); the 13this a 198m monster to a green surrounded by cavernous bunkers; and the 16th measures 175m to a gnarly green that extends to a blind left segment where the pin can only be seen from the tee courtesy of its 15 foot height. Fortunately my irons were on song today and I managed a couple of 2’s and a couple of 3’s.
the 7th - WOW
The course also is blessed by a variety of short par fours, from the drivable 12th to the terrifyingly tight 18th. It also has some stern par fours which can't really be any longer than the 420m they are because as they face south, even in an ever so light sea breeze they would be almost unreachable in 2!
late in the day on the 18th
For the front nine we were joined by the father and son duo of Jim and Paul who have recently shifted to Mount Eliza from Philadelphia and have taken up membership at the National. They were great company and gave us some interesting insights into the course and the club atmosphere. For the back 9 it was just me, Jamie and our cameraman-come-learnerdriver Jirv so we zipped around in about an hour and a half. Jirv started to fade after the euphoric views of the front nine and probably as a result of our late night out but he hung in there to provide us with some great camerawork right through to the 18th.
Jirv and JP on the 7th
The golf ended as a clean sweep and with Jamie as the crab. I had one of my best days of the year shooting 76 off the tips thanks to four birdies. But to do that I was pretty quiet during the round – with very little sleep and such a gnarly course, it was a day that required quite a concerted effort to score well! No wonder I slept like a log last night.
M
The other night I was inspired by the brilliance of the evening sun to go for a drive around the Mornington Peninsula, to see more of the area beyond its magnificent golf courses. Below are a few of the sights I came across on my adventure.
The view from Arthur's Seat (or Wonga, to give it it's Aboriginal name, which is also the name of a Wonga Pigeon, some ridiculous sounding bird that apparently hails from this neck of the woods)
A big tower at the top of Arthur's Seat that can only have been built by Scots, given it's dour appearance!
Aussies love their windmills; this one I thought looked striking with the Bay in the background
Roger Shaftesbury
'roos on the horizon
'roos chatting amongst themselves
Couldn't resist popping down the driveway at The National on my way past, to get a snap or two over the links. Stunning.
Looking over the Moonah Course at The National
The farm adjacent to The National, basking in the evening sun
I’m coming to you from the famous Portsea Hotel, trying to catch my breath after a marathon day. It began earlier than most, at 5.50am, when Mike Hosking from Newstalk ZB rang for an interview. Even though his lovely producer Lucy called yesterday to remind us about the slot, I managed to forget all about it until the moment when my phone blared over-enthusiastically at the anti-social hour of 5.49. Oops. The fact that I can’t remember one thing about the interview probably means I sleep talked my way through it – inevitably making for some less than enthrawling radio. Sorry Newstalk ZB listeners. Will do better.
Got some more shuteye then sadly handed in our keys at Moonah Links after a very comfortable 2 night stay. Batteries recharged after The Night Spent In The Car on Tuesday. The other lad and I then made our way to The Dunes, to spend a couple of hours on admin / chillaxing before golf. Jamie and Debbie and the other staff members were very (and instantly) hospitable; they joined us on the deck for a chat and kindly offered us a few goodies to auction off for The First Tee. One of the warmest welcomes we’ve received all year. The Dunes though privately owned is a public course, so there’s certainly no hint of the elitism or snobbery that unfortunately can plague the odd private club or two. They cater very well to golfers of all shapes and sizes – both on the course and off. Just a very nice place to be. And good value too, something I’ll get back to in a bit.
Sunrise (the Aussie #1 breakfast TV show, for you Kiwis/Brits/Russians/Czechs, etc out there) sent a crew out to do a shoot. The lovely Nuala and her partners in crime arrived late morning, after we’d had time to ease ourselves into the day (Mike even had time for a putting lesson from a guru whose name escapes me on the practice green). (It didn’t help).
The inevitable circus ensued. 3 tee shots each were struck off the 1st tee – which if nothing else was good for a bit of practice. 2 and a half hours to play the first 3 holes. TV... We had a bit of fun, under pressure to come up with some worthwhile banter (Nuala hadn’t been impressed with our ‘talent’ after checking out our Breakfast performance back home). Boring lawyers don’t make for good TV. Apparently. To be fair she’s dead right; we’re the first to admit that acting is not our forte. We’re rubbish. And acting is exactly what you need to do when a great big hairy camera is watching your every move (and the sound man can hear every utterance that spits out of y’er mouth).
Staged and slow it may have been, but Nuala and co were doing their job and doing it well, and we appreciated them coming down for the day. They were even good enough to shout us lunch back in the shed before we shot off back to work (to play the remaining 15 holes). Yes I said ‘work’. Once the cameras were away and the story had been shot, it was nice getting the chance to sit down with the crew for a more informal chat – 3 good people. We also came across a bunch of super friendly locals in the clubhouse, all of whom were happy to bend our ear for a few minutes and share an interesting tale or two. At that stage I’d clean forgotten that we had to go and play golf again. (Before anyone starts I use the term ‘had’ there tongue in cheek; as you’ll hear in a minute, if you’re patient enough, The Dunes was a rip snorter of a golf course, one of the best – I know we keep saying that, but it’s dam well true – of the Aussie leg to date).
So back to the course we went, under blue skies and a light zephyr or two. The Dunes as I said is a public course set in, well, sand dunes, towards the south west of the Mornington Peninsula. Can’t believe it only costs AU$50 or so to play here (circa NZ$1400 at the current exchange rate). Factoring in the competition in the area I guess it makes sense that prices need to be competitive – but to be able to play the 14th best course in ‘Straya for the same price as a couple of pizzas is pretty special. Ridiculous actually.
We’ve heard from a few folk – including Mike’s old man – that The Dunes is one to watch down ‘ere. It certainly lived up to its billing. Then some. You need to play all the shots on your way round; you need to be a good bunker player unless you’re dead-eye-dick off the tee; you need to putt well; and you don’t need to be Tiger Woods to enjoy it. In fact that for me was one of the most brilliant things about The Dunes – the back tees are long enough to keep the John Daly’s of this world happy, but there are a whole swag of milder tees to make the course accessible and playable for people of all abilities. You can’t say that about all the great courses.
The scenery was spectacular too. It was one of those days – a bit like Kauri Cliffs (Day 1) and Kinloch (Day 10) – when I couldn’t put the camera away. After every shot I was snapping away, trying to capture the beauty of this place. Being the punter of a photographer that I am the snaps below won’t do justice to the views, the contours or the holes themselves – but you might at least get a sense of what I’m on about. Farting around for 6 hours earlier in the day turned out to be a blessing in disguise, in that coming down the back 9 the shadows grew long and it felt like we were playing in the British Open (save for the absent galleries, barmy temperatures, and poor golf).
I know we’ve waxed lyrical for about 2 weeks now on the subject of bunkering. Those of you that are lucky enough to have been to the Mornington will I hope forgive us, since you’ll know just how well the sandpits are cut down here. Anyway this morning/afternoon/evening might just have been the best example we’ve seen yet. To back up this bold claim I offer this explanation: diversity diversity diversity. On one hole you can have huge lunar-like waste bunkers, pimple-like pots and orthodox (but in no way characterless) greenside traps. Some of the beasts we’ve come across of late have been one dimensional in their approach to this key aspect of golf course design. But whoever designed The Dunes has nailed it. As I said before, all the shots.
I could go on and on about the course, but I’ll spare you the boredom. Check out the pictures and see for yourself. Then play the course. As soon as possible. Better value and friendlier service you will struggle to find Anywhere.
Day 71 being the eventful beast that it was, there was never a dull moment. On our way to the car – at about 8 pm or so – we ran into a chap and his wife that we’d come across out on the course (when I hit a God awful block off the 15th tee onto the hole they were playing). By chance I asked him if he’d had any more birdies coming down the stretch (we saw him sink a raker); he hadn’t, but he did ask whether we’d left clubs behind. “No, don’t think so,” replied Mick. “Oh hang on, now you mention it, I do have a tendency to lose things...I’ll check...yes, they’re mine, thanks...etc etc etc.” The privileged readers among you that know Michael personally will know that he loses more possessions than he has 3 putts. (Actually that’s not fair, he is a very good putter. But is a careless human that loses things lots. But a Great Man in all other respects). Anyway we got chatting to Terry and Katie – lovely salt of the earth folks from Croydon way, that holiday down here from time to time – for a good while, before we had to head off to pick up Jirv from Sorrento. Another couple of top quality humans.
I mentioned Jirv yesterday. He’s a friend of many years; one of the most entertaining and mercurial chaps you’ll ever come across; a med student at Deakin in Geelong; and our cameraman tomorrow at The National (a role he’s very excited about). Jirv being the champion that he is took the ferry across from the other side to join us for a few days of light hearted banter. We’ve been having a whale of a time down here, but having a good friend join us has lifted spirits even higher. Evening has just kicked off with a couple of well earned cold ones and pizzas on the jetty at Portsea. It’s beautiful down here, and the boards are humming with optimistic punters with a line or two in hand hoping to snag tomorrow’s dinner. Pizza and a beer on the jetty here beats fillet mignon at The Four Seasons any day of the week.
We’ll be chopping it ‘round one of the most revered courses in these parts – The Old Course at The National – tomorrow arvo, with a local lad we met a few minutes ago in the Hotel. Another one for the scrapbook, I’m picking.
JP
Wonderful undulations on the par 3 6th hole at The Dunes
Michael dwarfed by the countours
One of a several blind tee shots, this one's the par 5 6th
Gnarly greenside bunkering
Gotta stay on the green stuff...
Stunning view from the 15th tee
The "six pack" bunkers off the right of the 15th fairway
The beautiful par 3 17th, described by Tom Watson as "an exquisite hole"
Semi-blind 18th tee shot, a nice opportunity to open the shoulders and give it one last thump
With our days on the Peninsula numbered, Mike and I have been reflecting on what a diverse golfing experience this magnificent area offers. Most of the clubs are in their infancy – relatively speaking – but one or two have been around for quite some time. Sorrento, where we played this morning, is one such beast (the others including Flinders and Portsea, as I understand).
Sorrento township is tucked away towards the sou’ west corner of this great finger of golfing nirvana – only the uber elite Portsea lies closer to the point. Sitting up in Hotel Sorrento the other day we had gorgeous views over the bay up to Melbourne and across to Geelong. Go there if you’re in the neighbourhood. One other thing that strikes you strolling around Sorrento is the affluence. This be Old Money Territory. Apparently the Melbourne upper crust colonised these parts some time ago; you’re as likely to see the descendant of an industrialist or media baron ‘round here as you are Skippy The Bush Kangaroo. Incidentally I saw a bunch of ‘roos last night – at last – while wandering through the Nepean National Park down Flinders way. Having eluded me for the past 21 days or so I unearthed their hiding spot (where they were having that AGM I speculated about a week or so ago) and ambushed the critters. Boy did they hop. JP 1 : Kangaroos NIL.
Back to Sorrento. Lovely little village / town / settlement / place to spend your last days on Earth. Goldy and I haven’t yet had time to sample local cuisine or have a stab at the nightlife, but with a mate arriving on the ferry from Geelong tonight for a short stay we may yet see it in its full glory. Better warn ‘em that JIRV is coming (Jirv – otherwise known to those that haven’t yet come across this tornado of a man as John Irvine – is a character with a capital C, and will double as friend and cameraman tomorrow at The National...better warn ‘em too). Somehow someone at Deakin Universtiy in Geelong admitted Jirv to study medicine, making it possible that one day down the track some poor unsuspecting human will come to Johnny Boy and depend on him to save their health. God help that human. I’m only joking of course; John is a very clever rooster, a nice man generally, and I expect a fine cameraman too. But I digress, as I’m prone to doing.
Sorrento Golf Club has a wonderful Old World atmosphere. When you find it. (The road sign had been taken down for maintenance, leaving Michael and I at the mercy of the mercurial and oft unreliable Google Maps iPhone application). Maybe they don’t want people finding it; if it was my golf club I probably wouldn’t. Upon arrival in what sticks in my mind as one of the most grand clubhouses we’ve come across in 2010 we were warmly greeted by John and Matt (the pro & his assistant). John was an absolute gentleman and made no fuss about our late arrival. In fact he put as completely at ease, jacked us up with a cart, proffered some advice about the course (including a handy yardage book with nice pictures and stories) and then escorted us to the 11th tee, where we wouldn’t be bothered / held up by the rest of the field. As I said, an absolute gentleman. Shame he couldn’t join us for the round, but some people have to work.
The golf course itself was the most parkland-like layout on the Peninsula, certainly that we’ve played. Where most of the tracks down here dish up tight lies, ti tree and vicious bunkers, Sorrento plays more like a sleepy country club in the Lake District (or somewhere equally quaint and lush). Peaceful. The club’s been around for over a century, which might explain the Old World mood. Greens felt settled; trees were mature; and the magpies were bolder than, well, your average magpie (they’re probably the upper crust of the magpie race, and probably reckon they can get away with anything, just like Packer & Co). One nicked my complimentary Moonah Links cookie right out of the cup holder in our cart – after Mike had already shoo’d it away while I was putting. The cheek! I’ve got the rascal on film (Mike will put up a vid in due course) and put the local police on the case, so I’m confident he’ll be brought to justice. If the Australian Justice System fails me I might take matters into my own hands and engage in some vigilante activity to add flavour to our Mornington Peninsula Experience before heading to the City. Oh stop being so silly Jamie.
On the way out to the tee John pointed out to Mike and I where changes to the course were planned, or already under way. Reckon the local gentry wouldn’t take too kindly to excessive tinkering with Their Course – their great great grandfathers having probably laid it down between Pimms & Ginger Ales in the Year of Our Lord 1863 – but the tinkering John spoke of appeared to make sense, and in my humble estimation is often a good thing (when done tastefully) to bring old courses into the new era. At least it keeps a few people in a job.
After several scores of indifferent golf strokes each we finally reached the 10th hole – our 18th for the day – and made our way contently to the clubhouse, to thank Andrew the manager. Another very nice chap – the place is full of ‘em. Sorrento had been a distinctly different experience to the rest of the pack down here, a fact that hadn’t escaped our attention. A nice insight into a traditional club that will probably be around here for another century or three.
Avo has been spent on logistics and media engagements (had a chat with Scott from ABC Queensland, which should air in the coming week); although of course I had time for a dip in the salt water pool at Moonah, and even managed a spot of wine tasting at Ten Minutes by Tractor up on Red Hill. Lovely flinty chardonnay, but the pinot wasn’t my cup of tea.
Tomorrow we’re off to The Dunes for a shoot with Sunrise (Breakfast TV equivalent, for you Kiwis out there). And some golf. On the 14th ranked course in ‘Straya. Super.
Shinnecock
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