"Ballybunion, that shimmering institution of Irish golf - It’s a testament to Ballybunion – the town, but in... http://t.co/UHR4dTqF" - 7 hours ago
"a friend, who shall remain nameless, sent us this. the photographer was obviously very taken with their... http://t.co/0zx89Y04" - 9 hours ago
"Photo: Not sure I can explain this one, but will try in due course. In the interim, I blame Newcomb Cole... http://t.co/yo8sa0sE" - 22 hours ago
Wrapping up the final day in Aussie went something like this...
2504 - 2510 1600 hours: picked up by old mate from the start of the year, Stewart Allen, and out to where he and wife Tania and daughter Leisha live out in the suburbs. Squeezing all of our gears into the car was some achievement and with golf bags piled up between the two front seats we made the ??25 minute trip??. Yeah Right!
1730 hours: we are back at Stewarts place. A beautiful home nestled in the leafy suburbs with an awesome view out towards south-east Melbourne and down towards the Mornington Peninsula. This place, unbelievably, has been on the market for a while - so if you know anyone heading to Melbourne tell them to check it out:
1900: in a rewind to March we??re hanging out with Stew drinking Massoni Wine (which he sells) and sharing stories on life. JP is even shown a few yoga poses but a complete lack of flexibility (read, our bodies are ruined) makes him just look stupid.
0520: after a cracking evening we??re up bright and early to chat with Mike Hosking on Newstalk ZB.
0845: we??re back in Stew??s car, bags piled all over us and en route to The Heritage. We??ve been here last week playing the new Henley Course - today is the more mature and Nicklaus designed St John??s course. Stew has played here a number of times and is our local guide.
0950: Stew, looking like Jim Furyk but swinging like Steve Stricker is teamed up with JP to make them the ??form pairing??. The weather is perfect. The staff are awesome. Our last game in Aussie, at yet another fantastic golf course, begins.
The Heritage Golf Club is set on a beautiful piece of land to the north of Melbourne and both the golf courses are well designed, well manicured and a serious test. The club is struggling financially for reasons I know not, but it definitely is not because of the quality of the golf.
Nicklaus courses have similarities between them with smallish greens, often more welcoming to a left to right shot (like Jack played) and with very subtle contouring. Greens look flat but are generally pitched towards one corner meaning a bit of advice telling you what side to hit it on goes a long way - enter Stew! Jack is also a fan of using the elevation changes - for example hugly elevated tee shots and greens perched high above you. Have a squiz at some of the photos below.
[stew from the elevated tee on the par five 12th]
1350: some clutch putting by superstar manager Bart aka Doug and the favourites have only managed half a point.
1500: we??re back in the car and to the airport. Via the souvlaki shop. Not quite the stuff of Dimitris (legendary Souvlaki shop in CHCH which should also be in Wellington) but it hit the spot. Stew has helped us with our final exit strategy from Australia - thanks for all your help mate and hope it goes well with your place!
1540: We have 128kg of luggage and the Qantas allowance is 23kg but after chatting to the nice women behind the service desk they kindly look after us. Our final flight is working out like a dream. Stoked that we??ve nearly made it Home - we hand out our old golf balls (and some newish Nike ones) to the girls behind the check-in counter!
1805: Qantas takes off and JP orders a kiwi wine.
2000: JP, immersed in his laptop with chin tucked into his chest and hands limply tapping the keys is nicknamed 'Steve'. It sticks like glue. The Allen, Allen, Allen, Steve, Steve, Steve calls are flowing thick and fast.
0100 (NZT): Our sticks are clean, golf shoes have no mud on them and we??re through customs. Blair is there to greet us and we head to his for a quick sleep before the 630am wake up to join old friends at Breakfast Club. Sleep is overrated.
With Much to do 18 holes was never going to be an option. Fortunately though there??s a 9 holer on the sandbelt, right next door to Victoria ?? Cheltenham. Just 5 minutes down the road from Hana??s, not more than three 90 degree turns of the steering wheel. Handy innit.
Trevor was as obliging over the phone as an American waitress who needs a good tip to pay her overdue rent. ??Sure lads, come on down; the ladies finish up about 11.30 so we??ll get you off some time after that.? Tremendous. Tremendous, Trevor.
9 holes of golf were played in the blink of an eye. Indeed we spent most of the 66 minutes blinking because the wind was gusting with gusto, picking up dust and assorted eye gouging debris. A warzone of sorts. But a pleasant one ?? as I said, right next door to Victoria, the site of the recent Aussie Masters (won by Stuart Apple). Gid gowfin?? land.
Conditions were, as Tony Greig would say, hawd & fawst. Balls struck with a 2 iron would roll out for 20 yards or so unless they met the acquaintance of wood or sand as they often did. Very enjoyable stuff folks ?? and just the ticket on a day when Much was to be done on the ??ministration front. By the time we returned to Hana??s Crib the lawns were mowed and the garden immaculate; I??d offered to get my finger nails dirty (you know, singing for one??s supper an?? aw that) but the Czech work ethic in Hana had taken over, and the task complete. Alas.
Later that day an old friend Stew came by to pick us up for a return visit to his home (which is up for sale and quite delightful so if you want to buy a house in Melbourne then this is for you). And Michael will tell you all about that. For now, a word of thanks to Trevor @ Cheltenham for making our life easier than it could have been; to Hana for her famous hospitality and pancakes; and to Stewey for coming to our rescue once more. You??re all going to heaven.
JP
Until recently my brain refused to process the fact that two separate golf clubs existed on the Melbourne sandbelt, Metropolitan and Commonwealth. My grey matter greyed the lines and came up with Cosmopolitan which, the astute among Us will know, is both a cocktail and an adjective ?? but certainly not a Victorian golf club. ??When are we playing Cosmpolitan?? I??d ask Michael, much to his bemusement (or was that bewilderment and amusement?).
??Metro? is revered as one of ??Straya??s best. I??m not fully up to play with the club??s history, but heard from our good hosts (I??ll get to them shortly) that it formed in the 20s as a breakaway from Royal Melbourne after the club ?? then in another area of the city ?? had outgrown its capacity. The Metro crowd moved to Oakleigh and the boys who kept the name to Black Rock. Despite Metro??s undeniable calibre I??d have to say the latter got the best deal out of it: but then again that??s not saying a huge amount given MacKenzie??s masterpiece (I??m referring to the West Course) is in my estimation one of the finest on Earth. Anyway.
Having had the privilege of playing all of the sandbelt heavyweights during our initial foray to Melbourne back in March ?? save for Metro and RM (East) ?? it was a happy coincidence that just a few weeks prior to our return to the Victorian capital, an email from one Andrew Foote appeared in our inboxes. ??I??m a member at Metro, and if you??re looking for a game, would love to host you.? I remember penning recently (in the Lake Karrinyup post from memory) that such emails conjure as much glee as they did back in January. If not more.
It was a familiar face that dropped us off at the club. Captain John Taylor is one of the longer in the tooth poster boys of puregolf2010, a paradigm example of how friendship knows no age and of how golf breaks down barriers that exist in other realms of society. The man is well into his 80s. I??ve introduced him before on the blog, many months ago, as the chap we met on the 1st tee at Royal Sydney. (To cut a long story short for those who missed it the first time: Captain and his charming Czech partner Hana were sneaking in a game en route to Nu Zillin for a golf holiday. He??s an RM member and was at RS making the most of his reciprocal privileges. We??d been snuck on (sort of) by a family contact of Michael??s, and were ??Royal Auckland members on reciprocal rights? too. Except we weren??t. So it was a little awkward when we joined up with Captain and Hana and the usual questions started flowing (as it turns out they could sense the insincerity in our story). Thankfully we came clean after a couple of holes and the rest is history. We met them in Melbourne several weeks later for dinner at their favourite Wednesday night joint ?? Fazio??s ?? two weeks in a row, and have kept in touch since).
Hana has very kindly put us up for the last couple of nights at her pad near RM (which is handy to Metro, of course, too). Czech hosts are the best (pancakes au freshly ground flour were a highlight). Last evening The Captain joined us for a ceremonial demolition of a paprika??d chicken and several bottles of South Australian red. Just like those Wednesday evenings back in March at Fazio??s we told stories and laughed like childhood friends. There??s something quite enthralling about hearing the stories of a man??s (and indeed a woman??s) lifetime. Michael and Yours Truly have much living still to do (unless QF 337 crashes that is...).
Anyway The Captain dropped us off with the offer of a pick up and lunch at RM if our hosts had to dash après golf. Right away we met the acquaintance of a Californian gentleman ?? looking suitably ??fornian in khaki shorts and slippers ?? and struck up a chin wag. He and John went At It about whether RM or Metro ruled the roost as we looked on with amusement. ??I??m keeping out of this? I thought, rather unusually, to myself. Y??er man bent our ear as we navigated the corridors en route to the pro shop much as a Greenpeace volunteer does on the High Street. With a newfound fondness though for Americans, after enjoying 63 days of their unparalleled hospitality this year, I was not irritated in the slightest and indulged his every question with the most thoughtful answers I could muster. (Admittedly I might not have been so patient pre-2010).
My this is turning into something of a long winded tale. Better get to the point Jamie. Two expectant young fathers appeared to recognise us and gestured in our direction. (You can just tell when a man??s got young kids). Andrew and his cobber Warwick. ??Twas a little awkward that our new ??fornian pal kept talking in my left ear as I was being introduced, trying to hold two conversations at once. Diplomacy??s never been a strength of mine either...
Straight to the putting green we went. Metro??s greens are renowned for their purity and the practice green was no disappointment. Except. The practice green was 50% slicker than it??s on course counterparts. Echoes of the ??Beached As? Kiwi whale on YouTube and his ??dissuptive? murmurings rang aloud. No matter. While stroking it across the veritable carpet it quickly became apparent that our new friends were well travelled golfers indeed. Andrew??s also a member at one of our favourites, Royal Adelaide. The Gowf Tawk was in full swing.
I fatted a 2 iron off the 1st tee. All of a sudden my 3 handicap looked less plausible than a Goldstein 2 putt from 15 feet. I caught Warwick catching Andrew shooting Michael a sideways WTF glance. Normally I don??t get embarrassed by my golf but this was exceptional. An exceptionally poor shot.
On the next hole the tone was set for the morning, in the sense that I found myself in a famous sandbelt bunker. Metro has millions of ??em and I found ??em all. Heavy rain over the past couple of days hadn??t helped proceedings either: most of the pits were logged with water ?? waterlogged, in fact ?? making Up And Downs an unlikely prospect indeed for mere mortals such as myself. And so it was that many bogeys were made.
Andrew and Warwick displayed admirable patience at my incompetence. And even greater patience at Michael??s lack of grace as he made birdie after birdie and skyted about the whole bloody charade. Andrew being a partner in a successful advertising agency (that he co-founded) is no mug; nor is Warwick for that matter, an economics consultant. Humbled by such cerebral company we did our best not to let the hacking get the better of our sensibilities. These were two good punters to walk ??round a golf course with.
And they have a pair of understanding wives too. Their itinerary of golf tours for the next couple of years reads almost like that of Slambino??s in the mid-Noughties. The rascals are leaving no stone unturned. Scotland, Ireland, Tassie... Why not too.
The course itself? 5 is just a marvellous par 4. 19 a sharp little par 3 (Clayton, no less). And 9 a smashing index 2 hole. Really there??s hardly a weak hole and the bunkering provides ample defence. Under normal circumstances I expect the greens would be lightning too, making not only putting but those little pitches Hair On The Chest stuff. Those proclaiming Metro??s creed as one of the sandbelt??s gems certainly won??t get any arguments from me. A ??must visit? for serious golfers heading through Melbourne, no doubt.
It would??ve been a regret of ours had we missed Metro altogether. Thankfully Andrew Foote carped diem and saw to that. For his initiative and tremendous hospitality we are very grateful. And for my incompetence I will...refrain from apologising to Warwick my partner. Because apologies ?? like knee bending, bridge pinching and various other prohibited behaviours ?? attract ??jug fines? among Andrew & Warwick??s Saturday group. And rightly so. These lads seem to have fun with their golf and well they should.
Entrée Captain John Taylor and a smashing afternoon of Ashes cricket viewing.
Thank you Andrew and Warwick, and The Metropolitan Golf Club for hosting us. You gentlemen are a credit to the club and despite your Australianness, to the golf community writ large. May you avoid broken wrists unlike your ill-fated friend Don and may you make it over to KiwiLand soon to enjoy our hospitality at Paraparaumu Beach GC, the Spiritual Home of Nu Zillin Gowf.
Chur chur
JP
P.S. And a sincere thank you to Hana & Captain John for looking after us so famously. You are sublime examples of homosapiens. ??nuff said.
Kia ora.
Greetings golf people of the world, Matt Cleary here, special guest blogging today for this tired pair of Kiwis who are travelling the world playing golf every single day of this year of our lord Dennis Lillee 2010. Greatest golf trip in history? Unless Donald Trump does it for a year with golden Mizunos and the Olsen twins as caddy, then I would suggest that yes: this is the greatest golf trip in the history of golf and of man.
Who are these people? Jamie Patton and Michael Goldstein are their names, and so long have they been playing golf that they are dinkum looking like numbats that the cat dragged in. I??ve seen healthier road-kill. Michael??s hands are shaking and he has the golf tan of Tiger Woods in a solarium; Jamie has the haunted eyes of a prison camp survivor. They are so chafed and wind-burned they look radiated.
And subsequently despite playing at venerable Royal Melbourne against myself and Aussie cricket fellow Brad Hodge, and doing it in the deciding Game III of our little Bledisloe Cup fandaglio, they were soundly beaten and the Bledisloe returned to its spiritual home of Hodgey??s place.
Yes, sports fans, on a hot and even humid Melbourne Friday (unusual conditions for the city, in that it wasn??t raining and sunny and cold and hot at the same time, but rather just hot, and a bit humid) Messrs Hodge and Cleary just about stuffed Patton and Goldstein on the sticky black greens of RM West. That??s right: stuffed. We smashed them. Smashed them. In the second-ball counts match-play scenario, Team Patton and Goldstein were routed 3-and-1 by Cleary and Hodge, and there was much rejoicing.
Actually there wasn??t much rejoicing, because golfing around RMGC ?? venerable, storied host of the President??s Cup of 2011 ?? is already joyous a thing.
B.Hodge, for those that do not know, played six Tests for Australia and batted at an average of 58 and was dropped after scoring a double-hundred, (for American readers worry not ?? but it??s a bit like someone had didn??t pick Derek Jeter in an All-Star game) and is considered the ??unluckiest? Australian cricketer of the last 15 years because the Australian Test cricket selectors are a pack of gibbering buffoons. That's right: stuffed. And gibbering buffoons.
So today Hodgey just plays one-dayers and Twenty-20s and smashes them all over the shop for the Kolkata Knight Riders (an unlikely name for a cricket team, but there you go), and plays a bit of golf at Victoria GC which hosted the Australian Masters that Stuart Appleby won. Nice fellah.
And also a Massive Massive Burglar playing off 14 handicap, and so am I (off 12), it must be said, and that??s probably the reason we won the Bledisloe Cup, but such are the rules of golf and what are you going to do about them, quibble?
The Kiwis did, and often, muttering about ??scandals?, though it comes out as ??skendells? or something, who knows what the golf-crazed gibberers are talking about, particularly the half-Scottish one he??s got an accent like a drunken bagpipe having sex with a goanna. Ha.
Royal Melbourne? Well. It??s Royal Melbourne, ranked 20th in the world or thereabouts, top-3 in Australia for a generation, it??s a prime PRIME chunk of golfing real estate in the best few square kilometres of golfing goodness on the Earth. We played the East Course which is a beautiful thing, with holes they combine with the West Course to form a Composite Course. We played a hole by mistake. Top stuff.
The boys had the television cameras following them around again and will be on One HD??s golf show called The Pro Shop, I dunno when it??s gonna be on but know this: it will be. Ask the Kiwis. Or write to Channel Ten, and ask. They would probably know.
Today these radiated Kiwi kids are playing the Moonah Course at The National (ranked 15th in Oz, and designed by Greg ??The Great White Shark? Norman you may have heard of him, it??s got three courses in the Australian Top-50 gee it??s good. Next day they play Cosmopolitan or something like it (Corporation? Combination?, another of the sand-belters anyway), and then maybe Hodgey??s Victoria to finish their Oz Odyssey #2. And then they??ll be on the Home Run in the Home Country, the fine country of New Zealand, or as the locals say ??New Zealand?.
And goodbye for now.
(It??s called Metropolitan, not Cosmopolitan. But it??s a ripper, and if you get a chance go down to Melbourne and play the Sandbelt, you bloody should. Take the Olsen Twins. They are hot.)
I challenge anyone to find a find a 3.5 hour flight that stands more on the knuckles of your grip on reality than the redeye from Perth to Melbourne. We boarded at 10.20pm and landed at 5.05am. BMJ (Bart, Michael and Jamie ?? not to be mistaken for the British Medical Journal) were three spaced out specimens when rubber met tarmac let me tell you. By the time we??d collected our cargo ?? it??s misleading to call it ??luggage? because, combined, it weights just over 6 tons ?? there was a 40 minute window before Michael ??Bowser? Hauser was due to pick us up. My fellow astronauts beat me to the wooden benches by the window so I was forced to spread myself across the Titleist coffin bag housing my sticks and 2 tons of miscellaneous ??golf equipment? (for check-in purposes). A dozen Srixons dug into my back but I couldn??t summon the energy to re-pack the coffin (the temptation would??ve been to empty it and encase myself in it, in the hope that the world stopped spinning for a few hours).
Anyway, we snatched 15 minutes or so of precious shuteye. I then wandered around the terminal in search of an Optus shop (new SIM card required), probably looking like one of those poor drug addicts that march the streets at dawn, still smacked out of their faces with That Expression on their dial. And I felt worse than they look. The mission wasn??t a successful one, but when I returned to Base Camp Bowser had arrived and was looking decidedly more compos mentis than our trio. [Sidenote: Bowser??s the affable character from Tourism Victoria who looked after us famously all those moons ago back in March; he also writes a neat little blog on extra terrestrial mysteries that you can access here].
I did my best to muster conversational brilliance on the journey into Bowser??s office but didn??t even reach the heights of mediocrity. Not even close. The faculties were not firing on all cylinders folks. Y??er man must??ve been wondering what 8 months of golf travel had done to us. Weren??t we all...
A stiff, proper Antipodean doppio would soon see to that though. Bowser parked up outside his office just off Bourke Street then took a massive leap of faith by unleashing us on Melbourne, with his car. Our first endeavour was to caffeinate in the hope that it would draw us out of The Twilight Zone. Delicious coffee (after the tar we??ve been subjected to in the UK), but no such luck ?? still spaced out, even less cognitively balanced than before.
By some miracle Michael was able to follow the road map and with Bart as his driving instrument navigate us to The Heritage, right out on the north east outskirts of Melbourne by a bend in the Yarra. In my stupor I was at least able to make one observation en route: Melbourne like a sea sick child had turned green. After 11 years of drought it??s finally rained for weeks on end. Hallelujah. The valley in which The Heritage lies, then, was a picture that could almost have been lifted from our very own Aotearoa. Byoootiful.
To be honest I was in no mood for small talk, but the staff were delightful and went out of their way for us. Sadly in the circumstances their names went in one ear and out the other, so I can??t credit them personally; but suffice to say they??re a swell crowd and if you turn up to The Heritage without having slept then you??ll be in good hands. In the blink of an eye we found ourselves on buggies bound for The Henley Course.
They have two tracks out ??ere: a Nicklaus (The St John) and a Cashmore (Henley). Driving in you pass a few holes on The St John and realise quickly that you??re somewhere rather nice. Wide open doglegs sweep beneath the hills and around lakes. In a word, bonnie. The Henley??s out the back ?? a 5 minute cart drive away, following a green line down the path. No doubt the single longest cart drive I??ve ever taken from clubhouse to 1st tee.
Fortunately we had the course entirely to ourselves, so zipping ??round at break neck speed (with the objective of getting to bed back at Bowser??s place ASAP) wasn??t going to trouble anyone else. 5th gear it was then. In 2 hours and 40 minutes BMJ hacked it ??round what proved to be a very picturesque wee layout indeed. Granted the course is young and still bedding in, but the vistas you enjoy when you bother to pause for a moment are idyllic to say the least. And a few of the holes ?? like the uphill par 5 15th ?? are exemplary illustrations of clever design too. Would??ve loved to have played it in less trying circumstances.
But no matter. Michael??s wife Nicky was at base camp to greet us; although she soon realised we weren??t the full shilling and showed us to our rooms. 4 hours later I emerged somewhat dazed & confused. The kids must??ve been bemused ?? scared, even ?? by the Kiwi zombies traipsing through their domain. At one point wee Sam was explaining to me which badges he??d earned at Scouts ?? and it took every iota of brain activity I could muster to throw sensical questions back his way. Fortunately I was saved by the barbeque. Michael and I stood out on the deck with beer in hand, turning the sausages, doing what men do best: stare at the meat. And all was well after a long day.
JP
G'day from Melbourne! A quick travel log of our last 24 hours or so...
Monday 1700 (Perth time) - Wake from a one our power nap sleep with drool all over the pillow and feeling like I could sleep for another 25 hours but my macbook is making noises telling me to wake up and talk to Gretta.
1800 hours - downstairs for a guinness with our irish host Ned and his Glaswegian wife Georgia who have been fantastic hosts for us in WA. Feels like an eternity since we woke up early to play Royal Fremantle (top track write up to follow) and met the dignatories.
1900 hours - we're out to dinner with Ned and Georgia celebrating their wedding anniversary. 43rd if I am not mistaken. Two days straight we've got in the middle of wedding anniversaries...
2000 hours - the first Gordon Ramsay kitchen nightmares moment at an Italian restaurant in Fremantle. Everything that can go wrong does. It's so bad it's comical. Orders forgotten. Kitchen 'malfunctions'. No apologies. One wrong order arrives. Two hungry boys looking at one another whilst myself Ned and Georgia have well and truly finished eating. And then eventually one of the most bizarre excuses for a pizza you've ever seen. We eventually escape back to pack our bags.
2100 hours - the car is packed and we've bid a sad farewell to Georgia. WA has been a special few days.
2150 hours: I'm running down the road to the terminal to check us in with Jetstar. They've kindly waived any excess baggage but we still must check in 30 minutes before our flight and Ned is stuck in the car amidst a 20 minute long que to drive around to the drop off point. The boys make it with our luggage just in time.
2240 hours: Our plan departs Perth - the time in Melbourne is 140am.
0510 hours (Melbourne time) - we arrive in Melbourne. In The Twilight Zone.
0545 hours - we're trying to sleep on the floor of the airport. Hundreds of smartly dressed businessmen and women are striding past us to catch their early morning flights shaking their head at the vagabonds.
0640 hours - Mike Hauser kindly picks us up from the airport and we head into Melbourne City. What a fantastic city it is. We make it to his work and have a quick coffee. The Best Coffee I've drunk for months and months it's great to be back downunder.
0830 hours - we arrive at the Heritage Club to play the Henley Course. Unshaven, and tired would be an understatement. A quick shower, another coffee and we're teeing off at 920 with the course to ourselves. Not a bad way to wake up!
Write ups of the courses to follow, but until tomorrow... take care.
MG
Post script - tomorrow we're up at 545am for another flight - this time to Tassie. Barnbougle Dunes and Lost Farm beckon. We've heard plenty about them and Can't Wait.
I am very sad to say that we have now left the sandbelt. Our final foray on the world famous golfing terrain in southeast Melbourne, on day 83 of puregolf, was a stunner at the Commonwealth golf club.
Commonwealth recently hosted the ANZ Australian Masters and so we were fortunate to play it in supreme condition. We were supposed to be joined by Sam Hartrick of the PGA but unfortunately Sam was off busy doing something far more important than golf - purchasing a house. Sam has been very kind to us the last couple of weeks by calling in a couple of favours to get us a game at some of these Sandbelt beauties. It was a real shame that Jamie and I did not get the opportunity to thank Sam in person today.
We scrambled to make it to the first tee today. Not because we were late, but because we were holed up in the car doing some administration. We are talking with a couple of golf companies about bringing them along for the ride which is puregolf2010 so the meetings, phone calls and emails are taking a wee bit of time. Then, once the laptops had been put away and replaced by golf clubs, we managed to stop for a bite of lunch in the clubhouse. The clubhouse resonates with an old world charm and was brimming with the ladies who had finished their morning rounds (Wednesday morning is ladies day at Commonwealth). Jamie and I wandered in to quickly get a bite of lunch before our round but our timing went awry when we starting talking to the friendly locals about our adventure and the work that The First Tee does (the First Tee does not have a branch in Australia and the locals, unsurprisingly, thought it was an excellent concept). So as I sat there trying to eat my lunch whilst talking to a table full of members, all whilst trying to maintain some semblance of decorum, I saw from the corner of my eye the group in front of us tee off on the first and walk down the fairway. At this point decorum went out the window and I may have talked with my mouth full as I quickly tried to explain our journey! I managed to scuttle down to the first tee, but alas, waiting there was the cameraman from the Herald Sun to take some shots of Jamie and I? Welcome to the circus of puregolf. Fortunately, we were then told that the tee was empty behind us, so we relaxed, had a few snaps taken (note: Jamie was in his element? a pig in mud in front of the camera), had a quick chat with another local who asked if it was "fair dinkum" that we had played 83 days in a row, took a deep breath, and then teed up to begin the Commonwealth golf experience.
The first (see below) at Commonwealth is one of the short par 4's that I have often blogged about in recent weeks. So I had to have a crack at it, and today I managed to get the first shot of the day away straight. An easy two putt from the edge of the green later and I was one under through one.
We were joined again today by Stewart, with whom we have stayed with the last night. Stu has given us some great advice for our project and that, combined with the magical dinner of flathead tails (see day 59 at Narooma for Jamie's eloquent description of the fine delicacies that are flathead tails), had left us in a good space today!
Back to the golf, Stu made a sublime birdie on the second hole - this boy can chip probably thanks to the couch grass he put in his back yard so he could practice - and at that stage Jamie was being left behind despite being square with the card. Unfortunately this hot scoring did not continue!
Commonwealth was not tricked up but a subtle and true test of golf. It had an understated charm that is reminiscent of the sandbelt courses. Take for example the 4th hole (see below) which is a seemingly easy 330m par four which kinks to the right. If you take driver, or even 2 iron off the tee, the ti tree on the left of the fairway comes into play`and you need to hit a strong fade to keep the ball on the fairway. So the smart play is a mid iron. But then you are faced with a decent shot into the green which tilts away to the right with a huge cavernous bunker on the left. All simple stuff, but makes a par 4, on a seemingly short and innocuous hole, become a good score.
I think the biggest defense for Commonwealth are it's greens. The borrow is difficult to read and many of the greens are tilted so that the ball will gather to one corner. Thus, if you leave the ball above the hole it can be sneakily difficult to putt it close. I think the difficulty of the greens shone through during the ladies masters when the scoring was not too much better than par, despite the pristine conditions. I remember watching the final round and seeing many many putts go by the hole. For us, today saw both Jamie and I struggling to two putt on a number of occasions, including both of us missing a few shorts ones.
Another highlight for me was the dogleg right 11th hole (see below) which I made double on (but still loved the hole). With the birds singing like crazy on the tee (the trees are very established at Commonwealth, as seemingly are the birds in them - we saw a number of fairly colorful and loud specimens) we had quite a wait for the group ahead so Stu and JP took time for a few yoga exercises. Once we were away, the drive needed to be placed either to the left of the bunkers on the corner with a 3 iron (or three wood) or alternatively bombed over the bunkers leaving probably a wedge into the green. We all played the smart option which left about 160m into a green guarded by bunkers on both sides. But what I failed to see was the heavily sloping green from back to front and when my (very poor) chip from the back of the green rolled past the hole it just kept going right into the bunker.
The par five 13th was another good hole which demonstrated that par fives don't need to be 500m long to be effective. This hole (whilst a bit short at 440m) really narrowed in at the driving area with ti-tree on the right and long rough on the left. I hit one fairly straight, but missed the fairway which I measured out at 11.5 paces. That is tight! It was, however, one of the few holes I managed to get up and down on and snuck in my 3rd bird of the day.
Coming down the stretch one more shot sticks in the mind and that is the tee shot on the 16th. This hole has water stretching down the left - quite an unusual feature on the sandbelt. A good tee shot can be hit with a draw to roll around the water and leave a short iron in. JP managed to draw one a little much on this hole into the water, which summed up his day today as just a bit off. And just a bit off on a course like Commonwealth can be deadly. It is quite similar to the course we played a lot of our golf on in CHCH (Russley) in that placement is key and you have the position the ball well and keep it in play to get a decent score.
On the next hole (a great wee drivable par 4) Jamie exercised some First Tee values by calling a penalty on himself when the ball moved slightly. Sportsmanship personified. Golf has to be the only sport when you call penalties on yourself, but that is the beauty of it. This kind of thing exemplifies the underlying ethos of the game.
The story which Commonwealth takes you on as you meander around the grounds ends with a climax as you walk up the 18th fairway with the grand old clubhouse on your right (see below). I can just imagine crowds of people gathered around there to watch the approach shots into the 18th green during a big tournament. This hole has atmosphere.
The day finished with a quiet beer on the clubhouse deck with Stu and then another dinner with our friends from private club X, John and Hana. It was our third time catching up with them whilst in Australia and it was great to see them again and hear about their trip to the famous Barnbougle Dunes - a course we repeatedly have been told to visit. Perhaps later in the year!
Thanks to Commonwealth for having us at their pristine course, to Sam for helping us whilst we have been in Melbourne, and for Stu and Tanya for welcoming us into their house with such kindness - we have said farewell to the sandbelt in style.
P.S Scores - M:78, J:82 (par 73) and F/G/P (and split sixes) to M
Being woken up by your body clock - rather than your alarm clock - is a rare treat. On the back of half a dozen early starts today we were due to tee off at 2, which is a far more civilized hour to commence play than a quarter past seven. Afternoon tee times afford us the opportunity to recharge the batteries. Ahhhhhhhhhh.
This morning we woke in the house of Stewat and Tanya, in Berwick (which must take its namesake from one of the Berwicks in Bonnie Scotland? Will research this). It was a nice place to awake. Stu & his wife had a yoga business, with which they're still actively involved. They're spiritual, relaxed humans. Their philosophy permeates unsurprisingly into their home, which has a calming quality. Sitting over my freshly made wholemeal pancakes I could've been in a $65,000 a day health spa in the Swiss Alps. It just felt cleansing (notwithstanding the fact that Stu is a wine distributor!).
Stu took us on a tiki tour of the surrounding area - The Dandenongs - which he'd grown up in. Reminded me of the Adelaide Hills. The region's pretty quaint; very Australian with a very English flavour - hard to describe. You'll find Agatha Christie style tea rooms and old steam trains among century old gums and towns with names like Sassafrass and Ferny Creek. We visited Puffing Billy (the local steam train, packed full of tourists from every corner of the globe) and a famous tea room that served traditional Devonshire Tea. In the Australian highlands. An interesting experience. We also had a look in, while in the area, at Olinda Golf Club - which must be the worst kept course I've seen in my 25 years. To be fair the club was kicked off the premises a couple of years ago when they stopped buying beer from the bar and resorted instead to bringing their own slab. Now the place is something of a ghost town - a bit sad really - so we didn't see it at it's best. Anyway we had a pleasant, relaxing morning, rolling round the hills and hearing stories about Stu's teenage misdemeanours.
Southern GC's carpark was packed to the rafters. We thought we'd be in for a long round - even if there was only one golfer per car. Thankfully James the affable lad in the pro shop ushered us to the 10th tee, to get under way. The back 9's part of the original course (that used to go over the road whose names escapes me); it's the more mature, stronger, more brutish of the two. Because the gums reach outer space you've gotta hit it straight off the tee - there's certainly no prospect of going over the things with anything but a sand wedge, and even then it's touch and go.
The front 9, on the other hand, is younger. And gnarlier. Don't let the wide open spaces lull you into a false sense of security - the combination of well engineered undulations, hard & fast conditions, and clever bunkering is more than enough to ruin a good scorecard. Not that I ever had one of those today. In fact we were all pretty ordinary. We fed off each other's mediocrity. Just as well we've got a sense of humour, Stu included.
Southern had gone somewhat under our radar, given the renown of some of other courses we've played this week. But when we stepped off 18 green today, in the evening sun, we all agreed it's a force to be reckoned with. Apparently a few Aussie greats have plied their trade here (Bob Shearer anyone?). Today a few agricultural workers plied their trade here, but we had a great time in the process. Next time I'll learn my lesson and hit a few more 2 irons - you've really got to be on the fairway, particularly on the back 9.
Warning to anyone visiting Southern: if a left hander with an apparent chip on his shoulder approaches you, turn and walk away. Quickly. The poor chap we came across can't have been the full complement, because we got a solid earfull on several occasions for holding play up when (1) we were waiting over every shot for the 4 ball in front; (2) we invited said Lonestar to join us or play through; and (3) we addressed him in our most polite Kiwi accent. Thought he was going to wrap his 9 iron around my head. Poor chap, as I said.
The other people we came across at Southern were without exception charming, and as I said the golf course was First Rate. The two 9s are chalk & cheese; chalk demanding certain shots (long, straight drives), cheese demanding others (carefully threaded long irons and dainty pitches). As I said all of the above proved to be beyond our capability on this Day 82, but life goes on. Tomorrow we're down the road at Commonwealth, where they've just held the Ladies Australian Open. Action.
JP
Well that was better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick. Today we played one of the most revered golf courses on the planet - Royal Melbourne (West). Depending on who you're talking to, it's the best in Australia and among the top 20 tracks in the world. Putting the politics of rankings aside it's one hell of a golf course; one you'd never tire of playing. Dr Alister MacKenzie - once you're finished your drink - take a bow (apparently he was partial to a tipple).
It's hard to describe a place like RM. First you've got to separate your own experience from the preconceptions, expectations and prejudices; then you've got to find the appropriate words. What I was most taken with were two things: first, the luminescence of the grasses (the fairways being a rich forest green, the greens being a glowing olive colour); second, the design of these magnificent 18 golf holes. Stunning stuff.
We were due to tee off at 7.30am, which is early by any standards but becoming the norm for us. We were meant to be playing the East Course too, but due to a happy series of events which I'll soon share, we ended up playing the more famous West course. What a treat. It was dark when Mike & I pulled up and met Bill - Michael's dad's mate whom we played with yesterday at The Heath - in the carpark. Bill was like that relaxed kid that lived right next door to school, in the sense that he'd stayed as a house guest the night prior at Victoria GC (see Day 77), a couple of hundred metres round the corner. We'd risen a good hour and a half earlier. And were a bit dusty.
Once we navigated the locked gates and fingerprint ID entrance, we came across the Head Steward (whose title was printed proudly on his RM standard issue bomber jacket - very suave). The chap wasn't too enamoured with Goldy's jeans and t-shirt look (unsurprising), so we asked him where the locker rooms were. To his credit he did well to hide his suspicion and courteously pointed us in the right direction. Sunscreen and mozzie repellant were diligently applied - as per our daily routine, safety first - before we made our way into the pro shop to meet John, a charming chap who was doing well to manage the increasing flow of traffic through his shop. John sorted us out with cards, maps, and got us to sign the visitors' book - a ritual that makes you feel like you're part of something old and cool. Or like you're staying at a friend's holiday house. Already the atmosphere of the place was giving me the warm fuzzies.
Being so early in the morning we took John up on his kind offer of a bucket of balls, and loosened up our stiff-as-a-tax-lawyer bodies before the Main Event. I thought my wrists were going to break after my first practice swing. Fortunately they didn't.
When we eventually reached the 1st tee (East) after an hour of messing 'round, a party from Mudgee (NSW) had beaten us to it like Amundsen pipped Scott to the South Pole. How disappointing. These fullas were a 14; we were a 3. At the time I thought they might be gracious enough to let us sneak away, as of course we wouldn't be holding them up. No such luck. They had to be at Kingston Heath by lunchtime, to play their second round of the day, so wanted to get off without delay. Fair enough, I suppose. At this point a very nice gentleman by the name of Peter - down from Royal Canberra for a conference - cheerfully told us that our 3 ball was now a 4, and we were only too happy for him to join us. Only problem was it was shaping us a slow round, something that could tarnish a much anticipated experience.
So we did what we are prone to doing and pushed our luck - by asking John the pro very politely in our best'est schoolboy tone whether, in light of the circumstances, we might be able to play the West instead. The course has just recently been brought back into play, after a number of fairways have been relaid, so John kindly obliged subject to the caveat that we wouldn't see it in its full glory and therefore any opinions formed should be done so with this in mind. Fine by us; we'd appreciate the design of the holes all the same.
With a spring in our step we marched back to the 1st tee (East) and let Bill & Peter in on the change of plans. They were thrilled. As you would be. And so we stepped onto what must be one of the most famous 1st tees in world golf (pictured above). As John said you can land 2 jumbo jets on the 1st fairways; it's almost wider than it is long. It won't surprise you to hear though that I missed it (by a couple of inches, but a fairway missed all the same - March being stats month and all). I think it could have been twice as wide and I'd still have missed it, the occasion of the shot getting the better of me.
Above is a picture of the 2nd green, which I think illustrates nicely the character of the place. RM while iconic doesn't have the gargantuan features that other famous courses have. Its features are confronting yet subtle; although I'd love to play the course again to get a second take and maybe pick up on a few more idiosyncrasies. And just to play it again. Because it's no less than other wordly.
Take the 3rd green (pictured below). The hole is a short par 4, which doglegs left from a slightly raised fairway. I hit 2 iron to the right hand side of it, and had a 9 iron in to a back middle pin. My ball pitched pin high - coming from a decent height - but still rolled off the back. When I got there to put my bag down I looked back past the pin, and noticed the green slopes front to back. Had I known from the fairway I would've taken one club less and chased it up there, but you don't notice first time round. Never mind - I chipped it in for the first birdie of the day! And the subtlety of MacKenzie's design wasn't lost on us.
The 5th hole is a famous par 3, and I can see why. You play a 7 iron or so across a gully to a raised green surrounded by what must be half a dozen deep bunkers. Behind the green is ti tree; short of it a Valley-of-Sin-like swail gobbles up anything hit less than flush. God forbid you hit it to the back of the green and have a 30 footer down to the front pin, as I did - a putt that would have been even more daunting had the greens been tournament speed. 2 putt was a relief.
The 6th hole (pictured below) is one of my favourite par 4s we've played this year. That and the 3rd at St. Andrews Beach (down on the Peninsula) stand out in my head, along with a couple at Kingston Heath and the 5th at Kinloch back in NZ. Oh and the 18th at Private Course X in Sydney. Then there's 16 at Kauri Cliffs. Whatever. Anyway, the 6th. Fairway snakes left to right, and you can bite off as much as you can chew over the dogleg, hoping like hell you don't end up short in the heather. There are bunkers between said heather and the fairway for good measure. Fortunately I got all of my driver and flew it 270 or so - with a slight block - onto the carpet, leaving a full wedge in to a raised green. It's just a beautiful golf hole.
The next was an uphill par 3, again over the heather. Both mine and Peter's shots landed and halted a few centimetres over the front bunker, leaving tricky stances over our birdie putts (see picture below). Happy to 2 putt, again. Bill the sidewinder that he is guided a gentle fading 6 iron in to 5 feet and rolled in the putt for birdie. Casual as you like. After bolting out to a seemingly impenetrable lead Michael and I now found ourselves well and truly in a match. Young Guns versus Old Boys.
Meandering through these golf holes one can't help but feel part of something special. Who knows whether the aura that grips you fades as you play the course more and more - I'll ask a member when we meet him for dinner tomorrow night. I doubt it's something that gets lost on you. The colours, the variety, the surrounds; really it is inspiring stuff. Four par 5s; four par 3s; strong par 4s; short par 4s; elevated tees; elevated greens; pot bunkers; waste bunkers; dogleg lefts; dogleg rights; back right to front left sloping greens; front to back sloping greens; upturned saucer greens - RM West has it all. It's the goods.
The 12th (pictured below) was one of the most majestic par 5s I've ever played. It has some similarities to the 3rd, in that it's a dogleg left played to a raised fairway. Bunkers off the tee sit there asking to be carried - very much a case of bite off what you can chew. Unfortunately I had one of 3 consecutive shockers and didn't get to play the 12th as it should be played. But I managed to stand back and appreciate (and photograph) one of golf's greatest sights. Looking from the fairway over the heather to the green tucked away in a cranny, your heart jumps a beat. Mine jumped a few when I hooked a 3 iron into the ti tree. Standing on the 10th green in regulation I was even with the card; standing on the 13th tee I was 5 over par, after a 3 putt, a loss of concentration on the strong par 4 11th and a debacle of a performance on the 12th. Fortunately i managed to play the remaining 6 holes in level par, for a 77. Mike played some good golf but let a few get away, and ended up with 82.
Most importantly the match with the Old Guard was halved - after Peter chipped in for birdie on 18 to trump my par! Jammy rascal. To be fair Peter had been quietly and patiently rolling the ball past the edge of a few cups on the day (he's a very competent 9 marker), so it was about time that one dropped for 'im. Probably a fair result in the end.
It's beyond my capabilities to do RM justice by written word. You'll just have to take what you can from our amateur photography, and perhaps even refer to the RM website for the official spiel. If you ever get the chance to visit, jump at it. Hallowed ground like this humbles and thrills you at the same time, no matter how your golf is. The members here are lucky folks indeed.
It'd be remiss of me not to mention the club sandwich that Bill kindly shouted us in the opulent sheds afterwards. Such is my tendency to get preoccupied with trivial matters. I'm not sure whether Dr Alister MacKenzie the man himself designed these sandwiches too, but they're a work of art. A part of me died when the sandwich was finished, because by then there were no more bites to look forward to. As usual I digress.
Poor Peter had to hurry off to a meeting, as most businesslike people do. Ditto with Bill, who had a presentation to deliver to Fosters (about the latest trends in New York cocktail bars - he has a glamourous job). Mike and i just went out onto the practice green for a few more putts, taking in the atmosphere and trying desperately to prolong what will no doubt be a long cherished experience. Then we did our usual shower / bryl cream routine and moved on. (Yes, we're becoming old men, hanging out in these traditional golf / gentleman's clubs).
Back to Kingston Heath went. Of course. With a reason, i might add. Walking the fairways there were a few American chaps, and Mike Hauser our pal from Tourism Victoria. The tourists were John, Chris & Tom, from New Jersey / New York. John (Sabino) has an interesting story to tell, and that's what drew us to go see him. His goal is to play the top 100 courses in the world (rated as at 2003). His quest began 14 years ago, and today he was ticking off number 90! Which means before today he's played 89 of the top 100 courses in the world...and paid for it! Chris & Tom are on the same mission, but aren't quite as far down the track as John. John's blog, by the way, is here.
The three of 'em were relaxed as you like, American gentlemen. Spending an hour or so walking some of the holes with them that we'd hacked it round yesterday, we got the sense straight away that golf for these high fliers is just as fun on 22 March 2010 as it was when they were kids. No grimaces; no swear words - just smiles, banter and mutterings about Tom's hankering for "Boags" (as in the Tassie beer, which apparently he's been wolfing down in the past few days).
Anyway. We swapped a few war stories with the lads, exchanged business cards and wished them well. John & co have kindly offered to help us out Stateside, and invited us to stay with them at their homes (or at least John did; Chris' invitation came courtesy of John, who instructed Chris he should be extending the same courtesy as John himself had!). Looking forward to meeting up with them on their home turf, and will have to give them a few tips about Kauri Cliffs - one of John's last 10 to play - before he heads there next year.
Our amazing day - Day 81 that is - continued along the same path when we met our hosts for the next 2 nights, Stu and Tania. Stu had contacted us out of the blue recently, after seeing our segment on Fox Sports, and invited us to stay with him in Berwick (outer eastern Melbourne suburb). Needless to say we took him up on his kind offer and here we are, sitting in his lovely 3 storey house, sipping a few glasses of the fine wine he distributes with his brother-in-law - Massoni. Beautiful chardonnay, for you wine lovers out there. Sangiovese and shiraz were pretty approachable too! Combine that with good conversation, his freshly made spaghetti and a comfy double bed - and we've had a sparkling evening.
JP
P.S - for those new followers, check out some of our videos (also linked through prior blogs) on youtube under puregolf2010
Kingston Heath has recently been crowned (by the reputable judges of the Australian Golf Digest) as the number one golf course in Australia.
So it was with delight that day 80 of puregolf2010 featured a round of pure golfing at 'the Heath'. Kingston Heath was the last place that Tiger played tournament golf when he won the Australian Masters by 106 shots back in November. And it is ranked as the number 29 best golf course in the WORLD by golf digest. Which makes it "officially" the best golf course we have played this year. It is fair to say that today Kingston Heath did not disappoint.
We played as members guests courtesy of Bill Torrey, a mate of Dad's from Sydney who is a member of NSW. Bill is a champion, a smart guy who shares our passions of golf, hockey and fine wine and cocktails. We get on very well despite coming from different generations. Bill has played the Heath many times before with Dad and co, during their week of golfing wonderlust in Melbourne that I have previously blogged about. This meant that Bill gave us some quasi local knowledge which we got huge mileage out of.
The golf course that is Kingston Heath is exactly what I had initially expected a sandbelt course to be like. It combines the best features of the courses of the previous week all bundled into one supreme golf course. Kingston Heath is (almost) done with perfection. Firstly, the conditioning is first rate - it is in excellent nick. The fairways are pure, the rough is intense (knee high in many areas), and the greens roll true. Secondly, the course requires precision shots all the way around. Bad shots result in bogeys. Very bad shots result in doubles. You need to spin the ball when approaching the greens or you can end up in deep trouble - most probably punctuated by sand of some description. Take, for example, the par threes (of which there are only three). If you hit a good shot onto the green it is likely that 3 is on the cards. If you hit an average shot, you will roll into a bunker next to the green, or a swale surrounding the green and with a stroke a genius 3 is on the cards (e.g., rolling in a 20 footer on the 2nd hole today). Before confusion sets in for those who have played the Heath our second hole today is also known as the 19th or temporary hole for the members or the 11th during the Masters. We played what is known as the inside/out layout that was used for the Aussie Masters last year. But to make life even more confusing the nines are played the other way around for the Masters? Anyway I digress.
Firstly, before I sing the praises of KH, I will share my one and only gripe. And that is that there are only three par fives, and they all run the same direction. On days like today, where the customary wind blows into your face on all three of these par fives (and the only short par 4), there is very little opportunity to reach any of these holes in 2 and accordingly it is only worth hitting an iron off the tee and playing them as genuine three shotters. I love risk reward golf, where a good drive could result in a simple birdie, whilst a bad one results in double.
But a golf course is not all about hitting it onto greens in regulation minus one, and Kingston Heath had many quality golf holes that put an exclamation mark on this statement. For example the 10th hole (7th for the members) was a par five but had a short sharp slope at the front of the green which made any approach, whether it be from 180m or 80m infinitely difficult to the front pin placement. The slope caught out all three of us, and we rolled back to a swale where the texas wedge needed to be employed (even for Jamie who generally hates putting from off the green).
There were some cracker par fours. For example the stretch from 16-18 (which we played as our 7th - 9th holes). 16 is a blind tee shot out of a shute of ti-tree and to a strong dogleg right. At 400m and into the rather stiff breeze this was a true test. Jamie and I both bailed out into the bunkers short right which appealed a whole lot more than the OOB / scrub to the left of the green. Blind tee shots were a feature of the course, with another on the short, 330m par four 12th (9 for the members and see below). The 17th was another 420m test which has a green that slopes away from the fairway which means you have to land your second short and roll it up - a shot that is probably easier for the 15 handicapper than the 2 handicapper!
I love short par fours. Despite playing the 15th (3rd for the members) like a girl's blouse it was still a real treat. At 270m long this hole begs for you to take driver and have a crack. When you get to the green it even slopes from back to front which means that a driver would even hold the green. But then again, the green is about 20 feet wide, surrounded by an array of bunkers which are duly surrounded by an even wider array of ti-tree. Perhaps driver is not the smartest play. So I tried to hit the 3 iron lay up shot which of course hooked into the ti-tree. Bugger I said and hit a provisional. But then I found it and hit a blind wedge to about 6 feet (and missed the putt). Anyway the story of the 15th is about how a small hole can really mess your round up. Jamie missed the green with a wedge (never the kind of thing that makes you smile) but from his downhill lie in the in the bunker to a tight pin on the concrete KH greens he was in somewhat of a pickle. His first bunker shot rolled through the green leaving another semi-impossible pitch to the back pin position. From the middle of the fairway on this short beast, he was quickly writing 6 on the scorecard. Great hole.
Lastly, the short holes. They're good. Very good. 15 (our 6th today) is a stunner with about 12 bunkers which if you were going to take a photo to describe KH this would be it (see below. To mix it up there was a 175m hole that we played as our 17th (the 5th for the members) which had a firm green where you invariably end up with a delicate downhill putt. Tough going for someone who has had their confidence on the fast greens knocked around a fair bit by this stage (take note Ed for when you play here one day). The other par three was the temporary hole which had rough around the green that came right up to my knees - who knew the sandbelt was capable of growing the stuff!
So the round ended late in the day with the bumps and blemishes showing up in the low light filtering onto the final green. A round to be remembered and a golf course that was a real pleasure to play. The final tally for the day ended with 79/87 and I took out the greens and putts to take blog writing honours. After a steady start, Bill had a couple of wipes and ended up second in the split sixes. But his strategic style of golf was impressive and got me thinking that this game is not all about belting it as far as possible...
Before the day was up, we went back to an old mate from St Andrew's (our high school) days by the name of Brendon Lucas (aka Ris - named after Chris Harris the legendary cricketer who was particularly well known for his fielding prowess). Back in the old days, Ris was the captain of our first XI cricket team and was a pretty hard taskmaster, well that's what I thought as the youngest member of the team... Ris and his better half Emma were spectacular hosts and we retired to their place to enjoy a home cooked meal (Ris has become something of a chef!) and a few stories over a couple of glasses of red. A perfect end to another great day of puregolf2010. Thanks to Ris and Emma for having us stay and Bill for hosting us as his guest at Kingston Heath - a supreme day.
God that was a good day! On this Day 79 we had probably the warmest welcome of the year, at probably the quirkiest named golf course we'll play all year - The Growling Frog. Mike and I are sitting here almost in disbelief at just how hospitable these good people were, to a couple of Kiwis no less!
The facility is a relatively new one, built by the local Council in 2004 40/50 km north of Melbourne, near the bushfire ravaged town of Kinglake and even nearer to the town where they evacuated all those poor folk to on Black Saturday (Whittlesea). They commissioned some famous fella by the name of Marsh to come and design it (a lot of the bunkers have a central tongue, creating the appearance of an 'M' shape - a nod to Mr. Marsh, of course). He did a good job, but I'll let Michael talk about the golf. We played a 2 man Ambrose format today you see, as part of the Saturday comp, so in keeping with the teamwork format of the day Mike'll talk golf and I'll pen a few words about our good hosts and the day in general.
The Growling Frog is one of a few golf courses that have made contact with us, inviting us to come and play - rather than responding to one of our letters. Before that email some months ago, we'd never heard of the place. I've been liaising with Simon, a young English chap who emigrated several years ago with his Aussie then girlfriend whom he'd met in London, about the day - and it's one we'd been particularly looking forward to.
The Frog's a public course - being built by the Council and all - but Simon and 250 mates run their own Club up here, just like any other. The only difference is they have to pay green fees each time they play (a modest $37, which is a steal). A great bunch of people, enthusiastic about their golf. Spending time with them in the clubhouse afterwards my memory took me back to Day 14 at Mahia, the rural 9 hole links we played on the North Island East Coast of NZ - where a handful of salt of the earth folk formed the fibre of the club, and kept it alive through their determination and shared passion for the great game that is golf.
They really looked after us. I mean really. Simon, who as I said had been the first point of contact, met us on arrival and kindly shouted us an espresso to pick us up after our 45 minute drive. Lovely. We were then presented with a couple of Growling Frog polo shirts (green, of course - would've come in handy on St. Paddy's back on Wednesday), which we chucked on straight away. Jude, a hilarious woman if ever there was one, heckled us on the 1st tee and told us that they looked putrid! I thought they were pretty good, actually. At half time, while the local reporter the club had organised to come down fired a few questions our way, Simon grabbed us a couple of ham sandwiches, to keep us going on the back side. After the round this incredible hospitality continued. Michael and I were invited to order as we pleased from the menu - I had a steak burger, chips and salad which, as Jerry the President warned me, you'd need a pole vault to jump over - and do the same from the bar. It really was unbelievable.
When Jerry had heard we were coming, this was the way it was going to be, he told me. A real country welcome. They'd organised for two different local papers to come along; donated the comp fees for the day to our charity, The First Tee NZ, along with our winnings for the day (apparently we won the comp!); and generally been the most hospitable bunch of people we've come across, certainly in 'Straya at least.
Ray, the 4th member of our four ball, was a tremendous human being. Great value on the way 'round, and he even remained a gentleman when I started sledging him on the 16th green! By then of course I felt comfortable enough in his company to offer a satirical word or two. To make up for my insolence I'll draw your attention to his 300 metre blind tee shot on the 4th hole, which came up a couple of paces short of the green - a glorious blow. Unfortunately it didn't result in birdie. (The poor chaps couldn't putt for jam on the day; on another day they might've shot a good few under the card).
Simon, Ray, Jerry, Jude, our mate Mike Hauser (from Tourism Victoria, who's a member here too) and all the other humans we met at The Growling Frog were Top Drawer Folk. I can't emphasise enough just how welcoming they were, and I'd encourage anyone in the area to head to the Frog on a Saturday afternoon for a spot of golf and a few laughs. Today fell right in the middle of our Melbourne sandbelt leg, which on the whole has been a fairly, erm, traditional affair. Most days we've turned up to play these phenomenal courses, but flown more or less under the radar. Today was an altogether different experience. A great day; one we'll remember for a long time.
Incidentally the Growling Frog is a local creature that you'll only hear in the very early morning, and probably never see.
Now over to Michael, for a few words about the golf:
Today we stepped back from our daily competition to play in The Growling Frog 'comp day', a two man ambrose. In this format we choose the best shot from the two of us, find that ball, and then try again... Put simply, we have two chances to hit one straight and then two chances to sink the putt!
The first impression of The Frog is the serenity of the place. The block of land on which the course sits is a wide expanse, and the story goes that the Council had considered putting 36 holes on it. From the clubhouse you look out over the said wide expanse across traditional Aussie flat as a flat pancake farmland speckled with gum trees and a few 'roos bouncing around. We spotted quite a few roos on the first hole, which incidentally was where we made our first birdie. The first was a downhill drivable par four (if you have warmed up..) to a tricky green guarded by bunkers.
After a few quips before the round from Mike Hauser (who was playing in the group behind us) about making a birdie record today, we didn't disappoint and had made four straight standing on the 5th tee. And then Jamie didn't let team puregolf down when he stroked an 8 iron to 10 feet. But then we both missed the putt and the cracks started to form. We both duly both missed another 10 footer on the 6th after Jamie hit a 9 iron in and so our dream of 59 was all but over. In the ambrose format, putting is king. So Jamie is an ideal partner, as opposed to, say, Ed, who would be a woeful partner.
The 8th hole was another highlight and the site of where we kickstarted our round again, with our 5th birdie. 8 is a par five which funnels between two gum trees to a green that angles away to the left from the fairway. Whilst it entices you to have a crack with a long iron, or three wood, the green is surrounded by some severe undulations and two craftily positioned bunkers which require absolute precision to navigate. We both missed the green with our second shot, but our short game was up to the task on this occasion. A tap in birdie on 9 following one of JP's pitches saw us turn with a 30, 6 under par.
Unfortunately the pitching went awry on the back nine and we failed to convert about 4 easy chances. The only birdies came from the two par 5's, despite both of them being close to 500m long and difficult to reach in two. The highlight of the back nine was the par 3 12th hole which was the only hole on the course without a bunker. The green is slightly elevated but only a high iron landing on the green will hold the green. My 8 iron landed just short and trickled back about 10 metres to leave a very difficult pitch. Fortunately Jamie's tee shot missed on the long side so we had an easier chip to the green.
If I am being picky, the course probably could do some work on the par 4's. There were about 4 or 5 par fours that measured between 330-350m and despite a couple having great greens and surround, they were not all as distinctive as they might have been. After playing sandbelt courses, you really start to appreciate the short par four that makes you think, and also the 350m dogleg par four which has all kinds of crap around the landing area for the drive. But there were some strong par fours as well, such as the dogleg right 5th, and the great finishing hole up to the clubhouse.
So in all we finished with a 64, which I have heard on the grapevine was enough to take out the day and the winnings will be put straight through to the First Tee. But I reiterate Jamie's thoughts that today was second to none as far as hospitality goes, and a day we wont forget in a hurry!
After golf we headed to the city to stay with an old mate of mine from school, Brendon Lucas and his girlfriend Emma. We also nipped out for dinner, at their suggestion, to a local thai place with a chap by the name of Simon who works for Taylormade/Adidas to talk shop and about having them jump on board. Touch wood it goes well.
The wonderful thing about golf is that it's a game you can enjoy just as much regardless of where you play - as long as you're playing with good people and don't get hit by lightning. I've had magic days hacking it 'round a goat track on a summer evening, and equally woeful days playing with idiots 'round a perfectly manicured multi-major-champion-designed championship course. It's a social game. With this front of mind Mike and I were thrilled to hear last night that Huntingdale had organised a couple of playing partners to join us in the morning. This was particularly key because we were teeing off at 7.40am - another redeye slot - and if we were just by ourselves it might've taken us 'til about the 16th to fully wake up.
Guido and Matt were the unlucky chaps who drew the short straw when Stewart the General Manager was picking his victims. Guido's a member, and Matt's a school mate of circa 35 years (?) who was in town for business and free for a hit. When I read the start sheet in the pro shop and saw the name "Guido" next to ours, a little light bulb went off in my head. Surely it wasn't the hilarious Greco-Australian comedian Guido Hatzis that would be waiting out there on the tee? (The one who pretends to ring the Queen, to tell her that she can sleep on his nana's couch during her visit, as long as she does a shift or two in the fish and chip shop they own and she doesn't steal any pickled onions in the process). Of course it wasn't that Guido, and in the event the real Guido (pronounced "Gee-doa", I understand, rather than "Gwee-doa") was just as entertaining. He was also born in South Africa to Dutch parents who emigrated like many others to this big island many moons ago - not Greek. But I digress.
These fellas were my kind of golfers. No messing around - just walk up to it and hit the thing. And plenty of light hearted banter on the way around. Ideal company, really. They were interested to hear whether we'd "picked up" at a golf course on our adventure yet. HA! Two things: (1) we have girlfriends whom we're very lucky to have and plan on keeping; (2) golf courses aren't the ideal place to meet young, single, attractive women; the ladies we tend to meet at the clubs, lovely though they invariably are, wouldn't be in our...target market...were we single humans (which, as I said before, but should reiterate emphatically - largely to reassure our tolerant girlfriends - we are not). So a profound "certainly not" was offered as the party line.
Huntingdale as a golf course is pretty sharp. Traditionally the Australian Masters was held there every year, although for some reason unknown to me it moved recently (and was held last year at Kingston Heath, which was a resounding success on all fronts apparently). Some bloke told me they moved it because Tiger didn't like the course and wouldn't play there. It would be unwise of me to speculate, but it's plausible. Let the conspiracy theories run rampant. Anyway suffice to say it's a good track, and the calibre of champions whose photos (in their Gold winner's jackets) are up on the clubhouse lounge walls shows just that. We saw Bernhard Langer, Colin Montgomerie, Aaron Baddeley, Stuart Appleby, Craig Parry, Robert Allenby, Mark O'Meara and...a fella by the name of Greg Norman (you might not have heard of him).
Mike and I had played here in 2004 when we came across for the boxing day cricket test at the MCG. Since we had reciprocal rights through our membership at Russley in Christchurch we thought we may as well bring our sticks and have a hack for a day or two while we were here. Think Ed and I even played on new year's eve, while Goldy and our mate Blair went shopping. Dedicated. The point though is that having played the course before we knew what to expect. Favourite holes were - and still are - the 14th and 16th (above and below).
It's pretty tight, on the whole. Rather than being long, the imperative is to stay on the fairway - if you can do that you'll have a few short irons in and hopefully pick up a birdie or two. Sounds good in theory. Our golf was indifferent at best (I had 81, M an 83) - pretty rubbish, actually. Huntingdale robbed us of a few putts, the greens being a fair bit slower than Victoria's the day before...so a few putts were left in the jaws. How frustrating.
Poor Matt faded a bit on the back 9 as the mercury started rising, but Guido managed 38 points. I fancy his handicap will be coming down. We joined them in the clubhouse for a thirst quenching lemon squash afterwards, and put the world to rest for a good hour or so. They're switched on chaps - G's in pharmaceuticals; M in banking, with St. George - and were happy to share their thoughts on a good range of topics. Like bloody Lara Bingle and the media circus that has erupted over here in recent weeks. Jeez they're brutal these Aussie journos. No decorum; could do with going to finishing school or, better still, to The First Tee. I don't know the full Bingle Story, but surely she can't deserve what the tabloids are dishing out to her?
With time to kill before we were due to meet Roger & Lorraine - our hosts for tonight - we had another session at the Apple Store in Chadstone Mall. Free (fast) internet, and air conditioning. Crucial. However it was hard to concentrate, because we both food coma'd after devouring a family size chocolate cake that was on sale at Coles for AU$4 (NZ$16). We were hungry and had set ourselves a $6.50 combined budget (that's how much cash we had on us). The first displays we came across walking into Coles were bread rolls - which happened to be $2.50 for 4 of those tasty cheese & bacon numbers - and chocolate cakes - which had been reduced from $10 to $4 to clear. Done. Not healthy, but would fill a hole. So we found ourselves sitting on a bench seat in the middle of the mall, trying to wolf down this cake. All I could think of was an experiment we'd done in 7th form economics when learning about the law of diminishing returns. Our mate James Turner had volunteered - not knowing what he was in for - and had to eat the best part of a 500 gram Cadburys chocolate bar, washed down with a good few cups of lemonade. James had to rate for the class the satisfaction he derived from each square of chocolate and sip of lemonade; of course the ratings out of 10 dropped as his consumption increased, illustrating the law of diminishing returns. He was miserable by the time he'd finished. And that's how we felt sitting in the bloody mall, next to our chocolate cake. About 10 minutes, it took us (that's after eating 2 rolls each, by the way). Pigs.
This evening we've had a lovely meal with Roger & Lorraine - friends of my folks from way back, whom we caught up with a couple of weeks ago down on the Peninsula for lunch. Our first curry in months. Used to eat the stuff just about every week. Anyway a home cooked meal was a lovely way to end a great day, a long day.
Will sleep well tonight. Off to the Growling Frog Golf Club in the morning - surely the best name of a golf club anyone has ever heard?
JP
After a warm welcome by the golf staff and a valiant effort, in vain, to find some locals to join up to make a four-ball we began round 77 of pg2010 at Victoria on the 10th tee. The Victoria Golf Club does not have a time sheet, so the pro has to juggle the various groups to make sure everyone gets away. Worked well today! Good laid back system.
Dad and his mates have been coming to stay at Victoria GC for around 30 years. On this annual golf trip playing all around the sandbelt they base themselves at the VGC clubhouse as house guests. So I have heard many stories over the years about the dramas that have unfolded at Victoria both on and off the course. Dad helped us to get a game here when he told the management about pg2010 back in February. They quickly got in touch with us, and the GM - Peter Stackpole - has been very generous to Jamie and I which we are very grateful for.
The course is a cracker. It is quite long - 6275m off the blue tees - and very balanced with four par 5's, four par 3's and a couple of short par 4's. We started on the 10th and thus faced four strong par 4's to begin our round.
The first feature of the course is the quality of the bunkering. Standard I hear you say. But read on. Firstly the bunkers are very well positioned. Jamie can attest to this after hitting it in no fewer than 12 bunkers today - unsurprisingly he ended the day as the crab. You don't need to have 2168 bunkers on a golf course to make them effective. Secondly, they are very fair and every single time the ball finds its way to the sand it funnels to the bottom of the bunkers - no balls are ever plugged on the face or in a big foot print that hasn't been raked. So at least you have a chance at getting it out and in - which Jamie did quite a few times today. And thirdly there is a good design feature where trees actually overhang the bunkers so if you hit a really bad shot you have two obstacles to deal with. Take for example the 11th hole (pic below) where I hit it in the bunkers on the left. Had I just rolled off the fairway and into the sand I would have been able to play out and potentially hit a 9 iron onto the green. But no, I had hooked it deep into the left side of the bunkers so was blocked out by a couple of gums and made a certain bogey.
Victoria is in an urban part of the south-east melbourne suburbs but whilst playing you forget that you are surrounded by housing. VGC is not short of land and you don't feel like the holes are on top of each other.
The 14th (below) was the first par three we played today and it was all class. An uphill 140m shot to a green that looks like it is barely 20 feet deep with bunkers short and long. Distance control is key. This is something I don't particularly have at the moment when my 9 iron goes anywhere from 120m to 160m? (incidentally my PW is playing up and I can barely hit it 100m??).
Then the 15th is a much talked about short hole. A 280m par four with about 12 bunkers lining the left, and then right of the fairway and, of course, all around the green. I went against my philosophy (of attacking all the short par 4's on the sandbelt with a driver) and took a 5 iron off the tee - straight into the trees. I struggle with lay-ups. Bizarre. Someone told me once that amateurs aren't good enough to lay up and I think that is in my head every time I am faced with a decision on par fives. Anyway there must be some truth to the lay-up philosophy that most sane golfers subscribe to and I scrapped a four on the 15th whilst Jamie visited two of his 12 bunkers to end with a 5..
A strange feature of the course, that I normally dislike is back to back par 5's. The long holes at Vic are 8&9 and 17&18. But each of these sets of fives has one short (450m) and one long (550m) hole. I am sure that good golfers play the shorter ones as par 4's and expect birdies, but the two longer holes are all round challenging holes with ti-tree, bunkering and even a dam lurching on the 17th to make 5 a damn good score. I have heard that often 17 plays into the wind and requires three very solid shots to get there or there-abouts!
So we turned after 9 holes with pretty good rounds going. I was square, and JP was +3. And we had both left quite a few short putts out there. Things were looking promising. On the 1st tee (our 10th hole) we were joined by two gentlemen - Ray and Bryan who were both members of VGC. They told us where to go on the front nine which was a great aid, but unfortunately by this stage in our round we couldn't follow their directions!
I'd say the first hole at Vic (pictured below) is quite polarising. It is a 235m par 4, which is very short to be a par 4, and has recently been remodeled to include much more extensive bunkering around the green. I can't say I would have remodeled the hole as a 235m par four, but I guess with the land around the first there weren't too many options.. The pro's play this as a par three so VGC becomes a par 71 for tournament golf. The first as a par three would have been impossible today with the pin nestled merely 6 feet over the cavernous front bunker - not even tiger could hit a high 230m shot close to that..
Vic is infamous for having play suspended mid tournament in the 2002 Aussie Open for the greens being too fast and unplayable! Pro golfers were 5 and 6 putting? The greens have subtle slopes in them but are not severe - so they must have been pretty quick that day! Today the greens were sublime and at a speed where we felt comfortable to attack (certain) putts. However some greens, like the 6th, were particularly gnarly when putting from above the hole and on that green even 3 foot putts needed close attention.
As the round wore on the wheels started to come loose and a few holes were played in ways that VGC has potentially never seen before (Note: don't go down 11 whilst trying to play number 8). I failed to keep it together and bogeyed both 8&9 to end up with a 76 (Jim had an 82, and hit more fairways - I took out greens and putts). I am pleased with the score, but it could have been much better. But then what round of golf could't be much better?!?
Ray and Bryan started rolling in putts from all directions over the last few holes and their experience, in particular on the par threes was evident. Ray knew the exact line to bump the ball up to some of the more obscure pin placements. Which reminds me of the par 3 4th hole which was just scary - the pin was perched about 5 foot from the right edge of the green and if you miss right there is a swale/bunker/scrub/death. JP managed to make a pretty damn good 4 from down there. Not often you say that about a bogey!
All in all today was a pure golfing day. And whilst I could wax lyrical for hours about the intricacies of the course but instead I'l chuck up a few pictures and maybe a video as well. Time is short you see as we are off to St Kilda tonight to meet up with an old mate from the law firm who is now practicing over here.
??Twas a game of three halves today. Or three thirds, I should say. Like a cricket test. The morning session was spent on admin, catching up on bits & bobs and the like. The afternoon session was golf time. And the evening session was the best of the lot, spent having dinner with friends we met a few weeks ago in Sydney.
Last night Luke (aka host / chief champ boss captain skipper) took Goldy and I and our old mate Cam out for dinner, to his local pub. A great wee suburban labrynth-like spot, with more nooks and crannies than an antique shop. It being a balmy Melbourne evening we sat out in the beer garden, and put the world to rest for hours. The conversation must??ve been good because time got away on us, and before we knew it the watch had ticked over the wrong side of midnight. Ah well, not to worry ?? we had an afternoon tee time ahead, so would be able to lie in. Ha. Not so. With all these early starts I can??t now sleep past 7.30...
An admin session in the morning, as I said. Our days seem to get busier and busier, and lists that once upon a time I would??ve been able to get through in a morning now span several days. Perhaps it??s ??cos I keep adding to them as I go. Anyway. Among other things I saw to my most important task for the day (send a postcard to the missus). It wasn??t the most beautiful postcard (it came free with our room at the Portsea Hotel, which also came free) - but puregolf2010 budgets don??t permit extravagance in any respect, let alone postcards. Hopefully she??ll just be pleased to receive one. I say hopefully.
After getting about half way through my daily list, it was time to play golf. Again. Where does all the time go? Course number 76 was Spring Valley, self-described as ??the hidden gem of the sandbelt?. Like others in recent days it??s tucked away down some suburban lane; I have no idea how people that don??t have Google Maps on their iPhone find these places. SV had very kindly come to the party at the last minute, on the back of a phonecall yesterday from the kind GM at Woodlands, John. (Not sure if I mentioned the other day, but the Yarra booking had been shifted at the 11th hour, leaving a gap today, which had to be filled of course). So quite apart from being kind enough to host us, SV did so at the last minute and for that we were very grateful.
The members comp was on but unfortunately we hadn??t been paired with anyone for the round. Instead we hit off 10 ?? a short par 3 with a plateau green and 63993 bunkers around it (see below) ?? on our lonesome. I knocked it to 6 feet and duly missed. Which was unfortunate. Although finding the putting surface was a feat in itself for me, since the wind was blowing hard right to left and I play a draw and the green (in fact everything) was Tony Greig hawrd & fawst. Indeed holding onto the greens proved tricky all day, a challenge we??d been expecting to encounter at Yarra & Woodlands the last couple of days, but hadn??t. For what reason I know not. In any case it made pitching from 50 metres a lot of fun; trying to clip one off bare lies and generate a bit of check is one of golf??s trying experiments, and when it comes off nothing else in the world matters. It came off less often than not today, but there was the odd one to bring us back.
Teeing off at 1.15 we had the heat of the day to contend with. That hairdryer-like wind only served to enhance my dusty demeanour, and got the sweat glands working overtime. In fact at one stage I think I even managed to fall asleep for a few brief moments while waiting on one of the tees (play was slow). Now that??s a power nap. Not that it did me any good. Nor did the smell coming off the dump next door, which was intoxicating.
In the sheds afterwards we got chatting to a few of the locals, who were a friendly bunch. One of ??em (whom we didn??t actually speak to) took a fancy to Goldy in the showers, but I??ll let him tell that story.
After what was a bit of a slog in the heat, Mike and I were both looking forward to the evening session. Captain John Taylor and his girlfriend, Hana, are the couple we met back in Sydney at PrIvate Course X a couple of weeks ago. They??re from Melbourne, and have just got back from a golf tour around the South Island of Aotearoa. Anyway they kindly invited us out for dinner, to an Italian joint they go to every Wednesday called Fazio??s. John & Hana are a lot closer to my grandparents?? age than they are to ours??, but Mike and I are used to ?? and very much enjoy ?? hanging out with older folk. It??s nice having friends of all vintages, and to learn from those with much more experience than we young ??uns.
We had a great evening. Fazio??s is a bustling family restaurant, on Hampston Street just down the road from Royal Melbourne. By 7.30 the place was packed with people of all ages, shapes and sizes. Young families; ladies night out; golden oldies; thirty something guys out for a bite. We even ran into the Head Pro from Yarra Yarra ?? Andrew Bertram ?? who??s a top bloke. Hana (who??s a school teacher) taught his brother. Small world. My porcini mushroom, broad bean and mascarpone risotto was memorable. Mike had some seafood linguine creation that looked pretty special, if you??re into eating sea creatures (I??m not). Growing up I was the fussiest eater known to man, but since my mid teens I??ve come ??round to eating just about everything; seafood, however, is the last bastion of my food prejudices. I may never conquer it.
We??re meeting John and Hana next week ?? same time, same place ?? on our last evening in Melbourne, before we head to Geelong. Already I can??t wait.
Tonight we??re staying smack bang in the middle of the big smoke. Driving from Fazio??s up the Nepean Highway, past the Crown Casino, over the Yarra and into the CBD, we were hypnotised by the bright lights. Feels like a while since we??ve been in a big city. Even in Sydney we spent most of our time in the Eastern Suburbs. I love Melbourne. So does Goldy. Tourism Victoria have very generously put us up in a Quest Apartment for a couple of nights, so we don??t leave without catching some of this place??s epic buzz. I could live here. In fact I think I will, at some stage. Anyway we checked into our plush pad around 9.30, shattered, but couldn??t resist heading out for a gander ??round the streets. People everywhere. Smells like a city. Restaurants were busy; we found little bars tucked away down little lanes; the trams were flying up and down Swanston Street; we didn??t stop anywhere, but just wandered around taking it all in. It??s St. Paddy??s Day, but we couldn??t pluck up the energy to grab ourselves a Guinness. I??m half Irish, so such abstinence is nigh on sacreligious, but self preservation is the imperative for the moment, particularly since we??re playing at Victoria ?? one of the best courses in Aussie ?? at 8am. Another early start. And another great day under our belts.
Thanks for Spring Valley for hosting us and to John & Hana for a wonderful meal. Ta??ra for now.
JP
P.S. JP won fairways (with a measly 5) and the putts (with a mediocre 30); Goldbanger won the Greens (I think with 6). Needless to say we weren't firing on all cylinders! Will do better at Victoria in the morning.
Woodlands is quality. Apparently it's the unassuming Kiwi like little cousin of the brash sandbelt brood, and doesn't get the recognition in the rankings that it should. If that's the case it's a great big injustice. Because this place, as I said, is quality.
The funny thing about these sandbelt tracks, Woodlands very much included, is that one minute you??re driving down some middle class road in suburbia, the next you turn into a blink-and-you-miss-it driveway and find yourself in golf heaven. Nothing like Kauri Cliffs or Jack??s Point, where the entrance is a breathtaking but altogether unsubtle experience; finding these traditional clubs is satisfying in itself. Although once you??re there you know you??re there, if you know what I mean.
Chisholm Park
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