Golf in the Blue Mountains – Ooty Gymkhana Club.
On the weekend of my birthday (I won’t tell you which one though!), I decided on the spur of the moment to show my wife the truly lovely sights and landscape of the Nilgiri Hills where I had spent all of my schooldays and indeed, much of my childhood and early youth, since my dad was a planter in the district. (After all, what’s better than to spend one’s birthday, marking the passing of yet another year, while at the same time, renewing association with the surroundings one loves most in the world, with the added bonus and pleasure of some golf thrown in!)
Therefore, on 8th March, we loaded up our assorted paraphernalia and our golf bags, hopped into the jeep and drove the 290 odd km up the hills from Bangalore. Using the steeper but considerably shorter approach via Masinagudi and the Sigur Ghats; some 5 and a quarter hours later we were pulling up in front of the Ooty Gym Club-house.
Founded in 1896 by British Planters and situated about 7000 odd feet above sea level, the Ross Thompson designed, Par 72, 6700 yard, Ootacamund Gymkhana Club (Ooty Gym) Golf Course is a veritable treat for the Golf Enthusiast. Practically everything in the main club-house, save the modern-ish bar, is redolent with history, steeped in heritage and evocative of the expansive comforts of days gone by.
Meeting and fixing up the afternoon round with Ashok Kumar, the obliging local pro/ course superintendent was short work. Since the dear wife has also taken up the game seriously, we assigned her a caddie/ coach and sent her along to get in some practice at the 17th which doubles as a driving range at OGC. Giving my bag to Ilyas, my elderly caddie and enjoying the fresh, clean, crisp, eucalyptus scent-laden air, I toddled along to the first tee, located on the hill above left in front of the club house.
Tee-ing off on this longish par 5 (583 yds), one typically has to place the ball to the right in the direction and line of the clubhouse, so as to make maximum use of the undulations of the course and find one’s self in good position to get on the smallish green which is located deep down in a natural hollow. If you’re a wolf, you are welcome to smack the driver on this, so as to be sure of distance. I chose to play my rescue which landed me fair and square, positioned well for the second. It is certainly better, in my opinion, to be humble.
The second is a relatively peaceful Par 3 of 223 yards, requiring you to place a little to the right with a 4 or 5 iron, so as to take advantage of the natural rolling landscape.
This golf course is carved from the natural rolling landscape, much of it similar to the original landscape of the Nilgiris, largely undulating grass and scrubland, with clumps of bushy trees, tree shrubs like Rhododendrons in part, loads of gorse and brambles (imported and introduced no doubt, by some home-sick Scotsman in the dim, distant past), and guarded by stands of Eucalyptus trees, those tall, timeless sentinels, watching and waiting to see some hapless soul hunting for his lost ball!
The fairways are neither manicured nor carefully tended like the newer, city-slicker type golf courses that one sees these days. Indeed, while the course is irrigated with a system of ingenious gravity tanks and pipelines laid by the British, there are no other real modern aids (except a recently acquired TORO Green trimming machine!). In fact, the fairways are pretty much kept in mown condition by the stray cattle, sheep, horses and other livestock that somehow, despite all precautions AND perimeter fencing, find their way onto the course. However, if you are fond of the game of golf, are a bit of a traditionalist at heart and maybe want to experience the game the way those original Scottish shepherds must have played it, then, this is a pretty good approximation!
Having said all this, it would be very remiss of me if I didn’t appreciate the quality of green keeping at OGC. No matter what the time of day, the greens were well moistened, nice and soft, almost reaching out at times to clutch and hold the ball! The putting lines held true, with a bit of a twist occasionally, but then, that is an occupational hazard in golf!
The 5th hole is worth talking about because it really tries your soul, with its awesome 500 yards going steeply uphill at first, with lots and lots of wicked gorse and bramble bushes lying in wait quietly to swallow your ball, possibly smiling to themselves, in anticipation of your frustration! Coming down and located right-ish is the green, guarded by a flattish, rough-ish bunker.
Clamber up to the 7th Tee at OGC which overlooks a deep valley, with a multitude of gorse bushes scattered all over. Once you have regained your breath and your heart has stopped thumping with the exertion and when your eyes have stopped bubbling and regained their focus, you will be greeted by a sweeping vista ahead with the green about 200 yards distant, guarded by a steep-ish rise to the right side, a bunker to the front right and a wicked drop to the left.
This is the real signature hole of the Ooty Gymkhana Club, according to my estimation. I can compare it in some measure to particular holes on two other golf courses I have played, the 7th hole at the Mercara Downs Golf Club in Coorg and the 4th hole at Victoria Golf Club, Kandy, in Sri Lanka.
It is as well to take a little break at the ninth, where one can arrange before-hand with the club dining room staff for a light snack of tea and some of the most wonderful scrambled egg sandwiches I have ever eaten. A sense of déjà vu for me, certainly, coming back home to Ooty again. First class Colonial style or in local terms, “Dorai” style at its best, with a uniformed bearer in attendance, catering to your every whim! This level of service with this peculiar Colonial flavour can be seen only in a few “hill” golf clubs in my experience – OGC, Wellington Gymkhana Club, High Range Club, Kundale Club in South India and Nuwara Eliya in Sri Lanka. (Please don’t forget to order some tea and biscuits for your poor caddie though, since it is certainly not an easy task lugging all your equipment and golf bag up and down).
Take a few minutes here to enjoy the crisp air around you and the fact that even food and drink actually taste so much better. This is a land that time has thankfully forgotten and if one seizes the moment to commune with one’s self, one would do very well to leave one’s cell phone and PDA and the other rubbishy, nonsensical trappings of so-called “civilized city life” behind.
Since this place is in the lap of nature and relatively less populated (and may it stay that way!!), one is quite likely of a morning on the course, to come across some wild boar damage or porcupine damage on the fairways, which they dig up to uncover some juicy morsel. It is equally likely that you will hear the peculiar wailing crowing cry of a wild fowl or “jungle fowl” as also catch a flash of its brilliant plumage when you walk along.
Going over to the back nine, one will find that it is relatively flatter, with wider fairways and relatively easier approaches to the greens, provided of course, that one plays to place the ball well – local knowledge certainly helps and one would be very well advised not to argue club selection with one’s caddie unless one wants to experience the vicious thorns of the abundant gorse bushes at first hand!
Worth mentioning on this is the lovely Par 3, 212 yard 11th hole, which is pretty well met with either a rescue or a 4 iron, placed slightly to the left of the green so as to allow it to trickle down to the green for birdie or at the very least, par.
On the 15th, (Par 4, 308 yds) one shoots a three wood off a far-away and down-below tee, avoiding a stand of tall eucalyptus interspersed with gorse, to come onto the steep uphill fairway, leaving one with only a well hit Pitching Wedge to the green. Once you crest the rise one is welcomed by the glorious sight of the ball sitting pretty on the green!
The 16th (Par 5, 576 yds) is simply brilliant, shooting the driver onto the right-sloped fairway, smashing the second with either a three wood or even a rescue a little left-ish so that the ball rolls down to the right and onto the semi-sunken green. Careful though, if you fall short of this green on the left side and are chipping on to it, because there is a wicked bunker behind!
The 17th (Par 4, 328 yds) is probably the only green which has some interesting upward undulations – if one is below, with the pin placement in the centre, it does become a bit of a poser but if you putt decisively and firmly you should be home for par.
The 18th (Par4, 370 yds) homeward is a nice semi- blind shot with a driver. Placing one’s self to the right side would be better because the slope is to the left and the ball does tend to kick and roll a great deal. However, there are not many other dangers on this hole (as if in compensation for the trials and tribulations that one has already faced if one has played the entire course), and one should be quite comfortably on the green in two, putting for birdie!
I will leave a cautionary statement here, for the typical cigar or cigarette-puffing, whisky-swilling, out-of-condition city-slicker type. Let me tell you quite plainly that the front nine at the OGC will leave you huffing and puffing, rather short of breath as you reach the ball, leaving you to negotiate very hard with your mind and body and requesting, nay, begging them to do your bidding! It will take you all your time to get your jelly like limbs, trembling knees and runaway legs under control and then try and address the ball, prior to taking your next shot!
If one is on the wrong side of 35 and normally leads a sedentary, desk-bound life, with little exercise, it is worth investing a little time in getting fit, acclimatizing one’s self to the slightly thinner air there and then embarking on a round of golf at Ooty Gym! This is quite decidedly NOT a course for the unfit, the faint hearted or the lazy amongst us.
However, all things said and done, considering the very reasonable access and comfortable driving distance from Bangalore, this land that nature has blessed with such beauty, is well worth the effort of visiting, if only for the golf experience alone! I loved it and so I am sure, will you!
Showing posts with label Travelogue. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Travelogue. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Monday, October 1, 2007
St. Andrews the Mecca of Golf - My Impressions
September 8th 2007– Notes made at the Mecca of Golf – St. Andrews!
I was fortunate to visit and pay homage at the Royal and Ancient at St. Andrews while recently on holiday with my wife in Scotland, that lovely land of Malt Whisky, Heather clad Moorland, Kilts, Old Nessie and of course, the home of the game we all love so well, Golf!
Contrary to popular belief that the game was invented here and so on, the facts appear a little different, with racial types as far removed from the Anglo Saxons, as the Ancient Egyptians, the Ancient Chinese and the Medieval Dutch laying claim to the invention of the Game of Golf. Indeed there even seems to have been some sort of similar game called “Kolven” having been played in Medieval Holland.
It also happens indeed, that the Scots Shepherds, to while away the interminable hours spent on the vast, wild and bleak moorland, watching their woolly wards, played a game involving their staffs or some sort of stick and a rounded object, probably a stone, which can, I presume be loosely compared to the game of golf as we know it. Having said all this, whatever its roots, we do know for a fact that the first organization per se around the game of golf, was the “Honourable Company of Edinburgh Golfers” and that the first ever competition was played at Muirfield in Scotland.
Over the last six hundred years, with the steady development of the game, St. Andrews has assumed command as the “Home of Golf” and indeed, simply and indisputably IS, the Royal & Ancient Golf Club – possibly being occasioned to some degree by the fact that this little coastal town bears the name of the Patron Saint of Scotland, St. Andrew.
As a golfer or golf enthusiast, it is necessary to visit this Hallowed Ground at least once in one’s lifetime, to pay homage, as it were, to the “Mecca” of the game. I can personally swear to getting ‘gooseflesh”, and a queer prickling sensation at the back of my neck while I padded by the entrance to the “Caddie Pavilion” and the “Starter’s cabin” – somewhat akin to the feeling one gets when one visits sanctified ground at other hallowed places in the world; for example the Vatican or even Wimbledon or Lord’s.
The town of St. Andrews is situated on a little tip of land at the eastern edge of Fife, Scotland, overlooking the North Sea. As a town, though quaint, it is rather unremarkable except as a centre for production of wool. However, its predominantly grey-brown stone buildings are today deeply impregnated with all manner of things to do with golf as a religion, no doubt partially due to the famed business acumen of the Scots, and aimed at the masses of golf-mad visitors from all over the world.
Practically every stone in this area is steeped in enormous amounts of History and Tradition, with the line of quaint, beautifully preserved shop fronts like “Bobby Jones at Auchterlonies” (located in the town), “Old Tom Morris’ Golf Shop”, “The St. Andrews Links Golf Shop” and of course, “The Old Course Shop”, all engaged in purveying vast quantities of a wide array of golf merchandise and occupying some superbly valuable real estate, overlooking the Old Course. Also notable is the Museum of Golf abutting the road on Eastern edge of the clubhouse – a lovely and highly interesting experience and very well worth visiting.
The extent of facilities on the links are surprising to the first time visitor; Two luxurious clubhouses (one of which was the scene of the (now infamous) turning away of that famed “professional golfer”, Walter Hagen, as he was not an amateur and not a member, despite being one of the most famous, skilled and flamboyant exponents of the game) – lots of unquestioning tradition and of course in hindsight, water under the (Swilcan!!??) bridge; because in its best traditions, golf was never intended by any means to be a preserve of the Elite or a Select few. However, the St. Andrews Links remains completely Public Land giving thousands of enthusiasts a chance to play the same links that their heroes have played. The famous golf club, with its five 18 hole golf courses and one 9 hole course, all of which I may add, are public courses, appears to a small degree to have ceded some of its hallowed antiquity to sybaritic modernity in the imposing presence of the famous and luxurious St. Andrews Golf Resort, Hotel and Spa to the left perpendicular of the Royal and Ancient Clubhouse and which also overlooks the First Fairway with the Ocean in the middle-distance.
Seeing it now, the casual visitor will marvel that what once was a single track hacked into gorse bushes and heather has developed into six golf courses attracting thousands if not hundreds of thousands of golf pilgrims! The “designer” of the Old Course is said to be Mother Nature herself, with so many changes of perspective and memorable details.
The beautiful old clubhouse looks (from the outside) to be exactly the same as it probably was, when the likes of Bobby Jones and Walter Hagen drew up outside it in their Rolls Royce’s, to meet in their gentlemanly clash, in the “Open” ! Today, by rather stark contrast, I observed vehicles of the likes of Honda, Audi, Volkswagen, Lexus etc parked quite possibly in the same places!
Worth mentioning is the fact that each hole here carries an unique name; ranging from the Par 4, 376 yard “Burn” going out, whose fairway is spanned by the famed “Swilcan” bridge and at whose close comes the famous “Himalayas” putting green! (As a Proud Indian I was pleased to set eyes on this, I can tell you!), to the Par 4, 411 yard “Dyke”, the Par 4, 419 yard “Ginger Beer” and “Short” (which can readily be visualized as a Par 3 of 166 yards.) The back nine coming in, has names ranging from the great Par 4, 340 yard “Bobby Jones”, the Par 4, 316 yard “Heathery” which is also the home of a rather nasty family of pot bunkers, the Par 4, 381 yard “Corner-of-the-Dyke”, the famous 455 yard Par 4 “Road” and back to the great Par 4, 357 yard “Tom Morris”!
Standing at the edge of the first tee with its sweeping view of the ocean on one side and the fairway on the other, in absolute awestruck silence, I fervently muttered a little prayer that one day I might get to “pay and play” this great course or at the very least, one of the five others, in the company of some of my good golf buddies. I was forced by the constraints of time, to turn reluctantly away from there and wandering over to the golf shops I bought some memorabilia and gifts to cement my ties to the place, taking lots of photographs all the time to create my own visual memories of the visit, prior to resuming our tour.
But I promised myself then, to be back someday and get in a round of 18, possibly washing the spirit of each hole down with a wee dram of that rich golden malt, rather in the manner of Archie – Bobby Jones’ one time golf tutor!
I state here most definitely, that St. Andrews simply must take its rightful place amongst those ”1000 places to see (as a golfer) before you tee off onto the fairway to heaven”!
I was fortunate to visit and pay homage at the Royal and Ancient at St. Andrews while recently on holiday with my wife in Scotland, that lovely land of Malt Whisky, Heather clad Moorland, Kilts, Old Nessie and of course, the home of the game we all love so well, Golf!
Contrary to popular belief that the game was invented here and so on, the facts appear a little different, with racial types as far removed from the Anglo Saxons, as the Ancient Egyptians, the Ancient Chinese and the Medieval Dutch laying claim to the invention of the Game of Golf. Indeed there even seems to have been some sort of similar game called “Kolven” having been played in Medieval Holland.
It also happens indeed, that the Scots Shepherds, to while away the interminable hours spent on the vast, wild and bleak moorland, watching their woolly wards, played a game involving their staffs or some sort of stick and a rounded object, probably a stone, which can, I presume be loosely compared to the game of golf as we know it. Having said all this, whatever its roots, we do know for a fact that the first organization per se around the game of golf, was the “Honourable Company of Edinburgh Golfers” and that the first ever competition was played at Muirfield in Scotland.
Over the last six hundred years, with the steady development of the game, St. Andrews has assumed command as the “Home of Golf” and indeed, simply and indisputably IS, the Royal & Ancient Golf Club – possibly being occasioned to some degree by the fact that this little coastal town bears the name of the Patron Saint of Scotland, St. Andrew.
As a golfer or golf enthusiast, it is necessary to visit this Hallowed Ground at least once in one’s lifetime, to pay homage, as it were, to the “Mecca” of the game. I can personally swear to getting ‘gooseflesh”, and a queer prickling sensation at the back of my neck while I padded by the entrance to the “Caddie Pavilion” and the “Starter’s cabin” – somewhat akin to the feeling one gets when one visits sanctified ground at other hallowed places in the world; for example the Vatican or even Wimbledon or Lord’s.
The town of St. Andrews is situated on a little tip of land at the eastern edge of Fife, Scotland, overlooking the North Sea. As a town, though quaint, it is rather unremarkable except as a centre for production of wool. However, its predominantly grey-brown stone buildings are today deeply impregnated with all manner of things to do with golf as a religion, no doubt partially due to the famed business acumen of the Scots, and aimed at the masses of golf-mad visitors from all over the world.
Practically every stone in this area is steeped in enormous amounts of History and Tradition, with the line of quaint, beautifully preserved shop fronts like “Bobby Jones at Auchterlonies” (located in the town), “Old Tom Morris’ Golf Shop”, “The St. Andrews Links Golf Shop” and of course, “The Old Course Shop”, all engaged in purveying vast quantities of a wide array of golf merchandise and occupying some superbly valuable real estate, overlooking the Old Course. Also notable is the Museum of Golf abutting the road on Eastern edge of the clubhouse – a lovely and highly interesting experience and very well worth visiting.
The extent of facilities on the links are surprising to the first time visitor; Two luxurious clubhouses (one of which was the scene of the (now infamous) turning away of that famed “professional golfer”, Walter Hagen, as he was not an amateur and not a member, despite being one of the most famous, skilled and flamboyant exponents of the game) – lots of unquestioning tradition and of course in hindsight, water under the (Swilcan!!??) bridge; because in its best traditions, golf was never intended by any means to be a preserve of the Elite or a Select few. However, the St. Andrews Links remains completely Public Land giving thousands of enthusiasts a chance to play the same links that their heroes have played. The famous golf club, with its five 18 hole golf courses and one 9 hole course, all of which I may add, are public courses, appears to a small degree to have ceded some of its hallowed antiquity to sybaritic modernity in the imposing presence of the famous and luxurious St. Andrews Golf Resort, Hotel and Spa to the left perpendicular of the Royal and Ancient Clubhouse and which also overlooks the First Fairway with the Ocean in the middle-distance.
Seeing it now, the casual visitor will marvel that what once was a single track hacked into gorse bushes and heather has developed into six golf courses attracting thousands if not hundreds of thousands of golf pilgrims! The “designer” of the Old Course is said to be Mother Nature herself, with so many changes of perspective and memorable details.
The beautiful old clubhouse looks (from the outside) to be exactly the same as it probably was, when the likes of Bobby Jones and Walter Hagen drew up outside it in their Rolls Royce’s, to meet in their gentlemanly clash, in the “Open” ! Today, by rather stark contrast, I observed vehicles of the likes of Honda, Audi, Volkswagen, Lexus etc parked quite possibly in the same places!
Worth mentioning is the fact that each hole here carries an unique name; ranging from the Par 4, 376 yard “Burn” going out, whose fairway is spanned by the famed “Swilcan” bridge and at whose close comes the famous “Himalayas” putting green! (As a Proud Indian I was pleased to set eyes on this, I can tell you!), to the Par 4, 411 yard “Dyke”, the Par 4, 419 yard “Ginger Beer” and “Short” (which can readily be visualized as a Par 3 of 166 yards.) The back nine coming in, has names ranging from the great Par 4, 340 yard “Bobby Jones”, the Par 4, 316 yard “Heathery” which is also the home of a rather nasty family of pot bunkers, the Par 4, 381 yard “Corner-of-the-Dyke”, the famous 455 yard Par 4 “Road” and back to the great Par 4, 357 yard “Tom Morris”!
Standing at the edge of the first tee with its sweeping view of the ocean on one side and the fairway on the other, in absolute awestruck silence, I fervently muttered a little prayer that one day I might get to “pay and play” this great course or at the very least, one of the five others, in the company of some of my good golf buddies. I was forced by the constraints of time, to turn reluctantly away from there and wandering over to the golf shops I bought some memorabilia and gifts to cement my ties to the place, taking lots of photographs all the time to create my own visual memories of the visit, prior to resuming our tour.
But I promised myself then, to be back someday and get in a round of 18, possibly washing the spirit of each hole down with a wee dram of that rich golden malt, rather in the manner of Archie – Bobby Jones’ one time golf tutor!
I state here most definitely, that St. Andrews simply must take its rightful place amongst those ”1000 places to see (as a golfer) before you tee off onto the fairway to heaven”!
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
MidSummer Midlothian Golf Edinburgh Sep 7-07
Mid-summer Golf in the Mid-Lothians, Scotland.
Prestonfield Golf Club, Edinburgh, Scotland.
Edinburgh, Capital of Scotland, famed as the “Athens of the North” and the home, amongst many other things, to the Great Edinburgh Castle, Greyfriars Bobby, Mid-Lothian Single Malt Whiskies, the Holyrood Palace and interestingly, to the first ever officially formed Golf Club, the “ Honourable Company of Edinburgh Golfers”.
Prestonfield Golf Club (formerly known as Priestfield) is a little jewel of a club, located as it is a short taxi ride from the Edinburgh City Centre and the enticing temptations of Princes Street and the Royal Mile. Nestled in a nice hollow amongst lovely parkland it is bounded on one side by the breathtaking and towering presence of the volcanic “Arthur’s Seat” and on the other three sides by Holyrood Park, the grounds of Prestonfield House, Braid Burn and Peffermill Mansion. Painstakingly laid out over 6200 odd yards, this James Braid designed; Par 70 course offers lots of challenges for golfers of varying abilities, as I found out at first hand.
It seems that Priestfield was first recorded in a Royal Charter of 1153 but apparently the present day Mansion only dates back to 1687, when it was built by the Lord Provost of Edinburgh in replacement to an earlier building destroyed by fire. The club itself was originally established in 1920 and the course was extended twice, in 1928 and again in 1933 when they acquired more land.
Somewhat coincidentally, earlier that day, my wife and I were on a guided tour of the City, visiting as we were on our Honeymoon and when we were driving around near Arthur’s Seat, Davy, our guide, pointed out various bird’s eye views of the meandering fairways and silver white bunkers of the Prestonfield Golf Club which of course I duly photographed. While the views were pleasing enough, they served only to whet my appetite for a round there in the latter half of the same day. After all, Honeymoon notwithstanding, Golfing in Scotland, the home of Golf, is the cherished dream of every Golfer and indeed I was more than happy to indulge that dream!
My wife having elected to give herself up to the spiritual pursuits of a “Whisky Tour” that afternoon, I trundled along to Prestonfield at about 1230 pm that Friday and introduced myself to Mr. John Archibald, the General Manager, who in turn connected me up with Russell McIntyre, the Pro. Russell was most helpful in kitting me out with a set of Muscle Back Cleveland Irons and a Ping G 2 Driver but I was faced with the prospect of going around the course as a Singleton till a couple of Members turned up for their tee time of 130pm.
I was lucky that both these gentlemen, Ken Craig and Robert Fletcher, very kindly invited me to join them and thus, we set off along the first fairway in a companionable manner, conversing, joking and generally enjoying ourselves!
I happily bogeyed the 277 yard Par 4, first hole, “Crag End” and the next, which is a short, 125 yard Par 3 called “Hunter’s Bog”. Robert, whose official handicap is 24 and who also, like me, was playing this course for the very first time, performed very creditably making par on both these, while Ken had a complete wild card, going off the fairway on the second, but getting back in there for a bogey!
The true challenge and character of this course lies partly in the Wind which can be rather treacherous, as I found out to my cost a couple of times. This is simply due to the fact that the course itself is set in a hollow or shallow valley which acts a bit like a Wind Tunnel, considering the higher ground all around it forming a perfect natural funnel for the wind to blow up and down!
Each hole at Prestonfield is interestingly and varyingly named from “Crag End”, through “Peffermill”, to “Little France” and “Arthur’s Seat”! It is a very quaint idea and ever so apt, given the setting which is simply gorgeous. Nature at her very best, a lovely nip in the air, warm sunshine and golf – no man can ask for more. The best thing is that the air is so pure and clean, I was trying to take deep breaths and fill my lungs to capacity with each breath.
The third, “Wells O’ Wearie” is a 528 yard Par 5, which doglegs sweepingly to the left and where I was extremely happy to make par, with Ken going down in a double and Robert for Bogey. It is very important to place your ball so as not to go OB on this hole and I suppose it was beginner’s luck with me!
Going on to the 6th, “Pentlands”, which is a Par 4, 352 yard journey, I managed a Bogey along with the others, holding my own I think! Not a very difficult hole, with a fairly wide fairway.
Ending the front nine is “Peffermill”, a Par 3, 140 yard beauty, which I simply botched up and bogeyed by under clubbing with a 9. I can’t imagine what possessed me to use a 9 when a 7 would have left me with enough margin for error. Ken, despite his local knowledge also ended up with the same score while Robert, our friendly bandit, made par yet again!
Unlike our typical weekend rounds in India, we did not stop after the 9th for a breather – also occasioned by the fact that the 9th is not a clubhouse green.
Going straight onto the back nine, I was surprised by the change in the lie of the land so to say – this course had more surprises in store for the unwary golfer! The forepart has the aspect of rolling parkland, gently undulating landscape with vistas of green as far as eye can see. Moving into the middle of the course, one is beset by large-ish, older and mature trees which can trap the over confident golfer!
Indeed I hit a wayward shot off the tee on the 12th (Little France) which is a nice par 4 of 400 yards and unfortunately hooked into some mid-sized bushes there. Hunting for the ball, peering under the shrubbery I observed that it had come to rest at the foot of a thick shrub. I didn’t feel like taking a stroke penalty and a drop so I chose to get down on my knees and get creative, playing the shot horizontally with the toe of my 7 iron to hit the ball back on the fairway and thus resume play!
The 14th which is aptly named “Dog Leg” is a pretty daunting 337 yard Par 4, which I can loosely compare to the 7th Hole at the Army Golf Course in Bangalore! If one is a bit of a Wolf, one would tee it up high and smash it with a three wood over the trees on the left hand side, to get a clear approach to the green – if I’d had access to my trusty V-Steel, I would probably have chanced it but as it happens, playing with relatively strange clubs and in the company of new partners, I chose to be humble and drive straight with a number four. Despite the cautious approach, I ended up with a double as did Robert. Only Ken made Par and I bow here to local knowledge. He played this hole brilliantly, perfectly placing his tee shot and his second and putting like a master!
The course takes on an undulating though open aspect around here, where the 16th heaves into view – Named “Arthur’s Seat” this is a lovely hole a 193 yard Par 3, which has a nice green closely guarded by bunkers. There are some great views to be had all around which compensated for my bogeying this hole while only Robert made par!
The 18th – a 328 yard par 4, somewhat prosaically if aptly named “Home” after all the other interestingly named holes is a lovely hole with a sweeping aspect from the tee, slightly curving through the left. Bounded by trees on the right side, the sensible shot to play is slightly to the right placing one’s self at the edge of the trees for the second approach shot avoiding the lurking menace of the bunkers guarding the green.
Here it would be remiss of me if I didn’t mention the brilliant play by Ken, who missed an Eagle but got a Birdie by simply thrashing the ball with a Driver off the tee, avoiding the bunkers and right onto the green! Unfortunately he two-putted to make a very respectable Birdie while Robert made Par and I bogeyed, thus ending the round!
Thanking Ken and Robert for a thoroughly enjoyable round I took my leave since I had an evening of unbridled Scottish Revelry to look forward to, complete with several “wee drams” of the “Water of Life”, of which, like Golf, I am very fond too!
Prestonfield Golf Club, Edinburgh, Scotland.
Edinburgh, Capital of Scotland, famed as the “Athens of the North” and the home, amongst many other things, to the Great Edinburgh Castle, Greyfriars Bobby, Mid-Lothian Single Malt Whiskies, the Holyrood Palace and interestingly, to the first ever officially formed Golf Club, the “ Honourable Company of Edinburgh Golfers”.
Prestonfield Golf Club (formerly known as Priestfield) is a little jewel of a club, located as it is a short taxi ride from the Edinburgh City Centre and the enticing temptations of Princes Street and the Royal Mile. Nestled in a nice hollow amongst lovely parkland it is bounded on one side by the breathtaking and towering presence of the volcanic “Arthur’s Seat” and on the other three sides by Holyrood Park, the grounds of Prestonfield House, Braid Burn and Peffermill Mansion. Painstakingly laid out over 6200 odd yards, this James Braid designed; Par 70 course offers lots of challenges for golfers of varying abilities, as I found out at first hand.
It seems that Priestfield was first recorded in a Royal Charter of 1153 but apparently the present day Mansion only dates back to 1687, when it was built by the Lord Provost of Edinburgh in replacement to an earlier building destroyed by fire. The club itself was originally established in 1920 and the course was extended twice, in 1928 and again in 1933 when they acquired more land.
Somewhat coincidentally, earlier that day, my wife and I were on a guided tour of the City, visiting as we were on our Honeymoon and when we were driving around near Arthur’s Seat, Davy, our guide, pointed out various bird’s eye views of the meandering fairways and silver white bunkers of the Prestonfield Golf Club which of course I duly photographed. While the views were pleasing enough, they served only to whet my appetite for a round there in the latter half of the same day. After all, Honeymoon notwithstanding, Golfing in Scotland, the home of Golf, is the cherished dream of every Golfer and indeed I was more than happy to indulge that dream!
My wife having elected to give herself up to the spiritual pursuits of a “Whisky Tour” that afternoon, I trundled along to Prestonfield at about 1230 pm that Friday and introduced myself to Mr. John Archibald, the General Manager, who in turn connected me up with Russell McIntyre, the Pro. Russell was most helpful in kitting me out with a set of Muscle Back Cleveland Irons and a Ping G 2 Driver but I was faced with the prospect of going around the course as a Singleton till a couple of Members turned up for their tee time of 130pm.
I was lucky that both these gentlemen, Ken Craig and Robert Fletcher, very kindly invited me to join them and thus, we set off along the first fairway in a companionable manner, conversing, joking and generally enjoying ourselves!
I happily bogeyed the 277 yard Par 4, first hole, “Crag End” and the next, which is a short, 125 yard Par 3 called “Hunter’s Bog”. Robert, whose official handicap is 24 and who also, like me, was playing this course for the very first time, performed very creditably making par on both these, while Ken had a complete wild card, going off the fairway on the second, but getting back in there for a bogey!
The true challenge and character of this course lies partly in the Wind which can be rather treacherous, as I found out to my cost a couple of times. This is simply due to the fact that the course itself is set in a hollow or shallow valley which acts a bit like a Wind Tunnel, considering the higher ground all around it forming a perfect natural funnel for the wind to blow up and down!
Each hole at Prestonfield is interestingly and varyingly named from “Crag End”, through “Peffermill”, to “Little France” and “Arthur’s Seat”! It is a very quaint idea and ever so apt, given the setting which is simply gorgeous. Nature at her very best, a lovely nip in the air, warm sunshine and golf – no man can ask for more. The best thing is that the air is so pure and clean, I was trying to take deep breaths and fill my lungs to capacity with each breath.
The third, “Wells O’ Wearie” is a 528 yard Par 5, which doglegs sweepingly to the left and where I was extremely happy to make par, with Ken going down in a double and Robert for Bogey. It is very important to place your ball so as not to go OB on this hole and I suppose it was beginner’s luck with me!
Going on to the 6th, “Pentlands”, which is a Par 4, 352 yard journey, I managed a Bogey along with the others, holding my own I think! Not a very difficult hole, with a fairly wide fairway.
Ending the front nine is “Peffermill”, a Par 3, 140 yard beauty, which I simply botched up and bogeyed by under clubbing with a 9. I can’t imagine what possessed me to use a 9 when a 7 would have left me with enough margin for error. Ken, despite his local knowledge also ended up with the same score while Robert, our friendly bandit, made par yet again!
Unlike our typical weekend rounds in India, we did not stop after the 9th for a breather – also occasioned by the fact that the 9th is not a clubhouse green.
Going straight onto the back nine, I was surprised by the change in the lie of the land so to say – this course had more surprises in store for the unwary golfer! The forepart has the aspect of rolling parkland, gently undulating landscape with vistas of green as far as eye can see. Moving into the middle of the course, one is beset by large-ish, older and mature trees which can trap the over confident golfer!
Indeed I hit a wayward shot off the tee on the 12th (Little France) which is a nice par 4 of 400 yards and unfortunately hooked into some mid-sized bushes there. Hunting for the ball, peering under the shrubbery I observed that it had come to rest at the foot of a thick shrub. I didn’t feel like taking a stroke penalty and a drop so I chose to get down on my knees and get creative, playing the shot horizontally with the toe of my 7 iron to hit the ball back on the fairway and thus resume play!
The 14th which is aptly named “Dog Leg” is a pretty daunting 337 yard Par 4, which I can loosely compare to the 7th Hole at the Army Golf Course in Bangalore! If one is a bit of a Wolf, one would tee it up high and smash it with a three wood over the trees on the left hand side, to get a clear approach to the green – if I’d had access to my trusty V-Steel, I would probably have chanced it but as it happens, playing with relatively strange clubs and in the company of new partners, I chose to be humble and drive straight with a number four. Despite the cautious approach, I ended up with a double as did Robert. Only Ken made Par and I bow here to local knowledge. He played this hole brilliantly, perfectly placing his tee shot and his second and putting like a master!
The course takes on an undulating though open aspect around here, where the 16th heaves into view – Named “Arthur’s Seat” this is a lovely hole a 193 yard Par 3, which has a nice green closely guarded by bunkers. There are some great views to be had all around which compensated for my bogeying this hole while only Robert made par!
The 18th – a 328 yard par 4, somewhat prosaically if aptly named “Home” after all the other interestingly named holes is a lovely hole with a sweeping aspect from the tee, slightly curving through the left. Bounded by trees on the right side, the sensible shot to play is slightly to the right placing one’s self at the edge of the trees for the second approach shot avoiding the lurking menace of the bunkers guarding the green.
Here it would be remiss of me if I didn’t mention the brilliant play by Ken, who missed an Eagle but got a Birdie by simply thrashing the ball with a Driver off the tee, avoiding the bunkers and right onto the green! Unfortunately he two-putted to make a very respectable Birdie while Robert made Par and I bogeyed, thus ending the round!
Thanking Ken and Robert for a thoroughly enjoyable round I took my leave since I had an evening of unbridled Scottish Revelry to look forward to, complete with several “wee drams” of the “Water of Life”, of which, like Golf, I am very fond too!
Finchley Golf Club, London Sep 3rd 07
Finchley Golf Club – Suburban Heaven.
The chill, bright morning of 3rd September dawned, the third day of our Honeymoon Holiday in the UK.
Donning my kit, I bid a hasty though fond farewell to my dear wife. (Choosing a round of Golf over the dubious prospect of half a day’s meandering around mouldy museums, was for me a foregone conclusion.) Leaping jauntily into the Tube, I meandered from Paddington to Finchley Central, in the North West of London, to meet David Brown, the estimable and amiable Pro at Finchley Golf Club.
Arriving at 730 am, after about an hour’s silent subterranean communion with my fellow commuters (I now know how a mole or a miner probably feels!), I found rather to my chagrin that there were no obliging local cabbies around to take me to Frith Lane, the lovely wooded parkland area in which the club is located. David was most kind when I called him and very obligingly drove over to pick me up.
Kitting me out with a nice set of Ping Eye 2 Irons, a G2 Driver and a Course Planner booklet was the work of a moment and we turned to the next job of finding me a partner. Luckily Sydney Levy, one of the members drove up just then and I was able to join him and the members of his regular company to make up the fourth.
We decided to play partners with the stakes for the round being a Golf Ball each to the winning twosome. Tossing our Golf Balls, it panned out that Sydney Levy and Leon Smith would be partners and that I would partner Derick Petter. It was rather enjoyable to be a part of the easy camaraderie of these three gentlemen of middle years, all of whom are sportsmen in the best traditions of the game of golf! Walking down to the first tee, I was seized with the familiar addictive feeling of playing hooky from school, on a Monday morning, running off as it were, to play Golf!
Located in Frith lane since 1930, Finchley is a challenging par 72 course, designed by the great James Braid and laid out over some 6000 odd yards in beautiful, rolling landscape once belonging to a Victorian stately home, now converted into Finchley’s well appointed clubhouse. It is a picturesque course and being bounded by great trees and numerous shrubs, quite easily gives one the illusion of being deep in the countryside whilst actually being located in the middle of a great city.
The beauties of Nature bathed in the morning sun were apparent all around us and adding to our enjoyment was that ever-so-slight nip in the air – crystal clear atmosphere, birds chirping, the fragrance of freshly mown grass and all the other intangibles that go to make up a truly wonderful morning golf experience.
The first hole is an interesting Par 4 of 282 yards – a pretty straight approach with no lurking dangers so we had a net five, losing to our opponents.
I hadn’t frankly had time to refer to the course planner and was quite literally flying blind as it were, but I am of the firm belief that those of us who play golf for the camaraderie, fun and exercise enjoy ourselves much better when we judge the lie of the land for ourselves, without relying on the more modern aids. Of course, it is not so often that one gets a “second chance” as it were and this fact is nowhere more evident than on the golf course where one must try and make each shot count, but having said that, I enjoyed myself so much on the course, that the scores didn’t really matter very much!
The 126 yard par 3 third hole is a sheer joy to play, thramming the ball with a Pitching Wedge to land on the edge of the green for a chip, a putt and a par. Very satisfying indeed!
The beauties of James Braid’s design became more and more apparent when we saw that not one fairway criss-crossed with any other, the whole course being laid out in a clear forward progression with each tee and fairway being set away from the previous one.
I must pause here to compliment the quality of maintenance of the fairways and greens. Having played most of my golf in India, it genuinely was a pleasure to play through the “roughs” at Finchley whenever it was occasioned by a mis-hit, because apart from the lurking dangers of some few Gorse bushes here and there, the roughs are certainly so much more civilized than the ones I am used to!
Worthy of mention is the quality of the green-keeping – while the pin positions were quite straightforward, the greens are very lively indeed, with all sorts of hidden dangers from sudden slopes, different breaks and extremely slick surfaces!
The 7th hole, a pretty testing Par 3, 198 yard hole, was well tried with a 4 Iron for accuracy and coming down in four, I didn’t feel too bad, because I was pleased with the way I had judged the tee shot and then approach wedged the second onto the green.
Finishing the front nine are the longest hole, the par 5, 505 yard, 8th where I am pleased to have had a bogey and an equally daunting 470 yard par 5, 9th where we went down for par!
Moving on to the back nine, I must mention the 12th Hole in particular, as this is considered to be the real signature hole of the Finchley Course. A wicked 152 yard Par 3, with terrifying Pines and Conifers bounding the right side of your approach will surely cause any but the toughest minds to quail!
However, the terror of this hole is amply compensated when you walk up to the steeply sloping green and behold the imposing view of the Club house behind it! My partner Derick and I made a 4 on this, which we promptly forgave ourselves for!
I had been warned that the fairways were narrow and one might get a bit tangled up in the tall trees which abounded, but to my mind, the fairways seemed much wider than those at our Bangalore Golf Club!
Throughout the round, my three playing partners kept each other and me regaled with much good natured ribbing. I was witness, at regular intervals to their strange battle cry of “hot cheese” whenever one of their esteemed number landed in one of the numerous bunkers around!
The 122 yard Par 3 15th hole is also a joy to play off with an 8 iron to get one sufficient distance coupled with the necessary loft.
The course has its ups and downs, with rolling fairways and some decent climbs, but all in all, it is a relatively “user friendly” course, which doesn’t tax one too much in the physical sense.
Of course those of us who play regularly in India and Asia, need to get used to the fact that there are no caddies and so on, but truth be told, pulling one’s own trolley along, judging one’s own distances, choosing one’s own clubs and figuring out one’s own putting line are very good things, since one learns immense self reliance and at the same time, begins to appreciate the little things which one takes for granted here at home in India!
Finishing the 17th, another Par 5 of 442 yards in 6, we meandered along to the 18th and final hole of the day, a deceptive Par 4 of 412 yards. You are required to place your shot well to the left, in order to guarantee reasonable success being on the clubhouse green in two. While the green is a decent sized one it is not always true that “the bigger the target the easier it is to hit”, as I found out to my cost. Going down in 5 we bogeyed our last hole that day to lose a Golf Ball each to our opponents!
In the best spirits of sportsmanship the four of us repaired to the 19th and had ourselves a couple of tall glasses of tissue restorative tonic each prior to exchanging email id’s and parting ways. A fitting finale indeed, to a good round of golf and for me a highly enjoyable experience!
I will wholeheartedly endorse Finchley’s claim to being one of the friendliest clubs in North London – they certainly are very welcoming and make a visitor feel completely at home there!
The chill, bright morning of 3rd September dawned, the third day of our Honeymoon Holiday in the UK.
Donning my kit, I bid a hasty though fond farewell to my dear wife. (Choosing a round of Golf over the dubious prospect of half a day’s meandering around mouldy museums, was for me a foregone conclusion.) Leaping jauntily into the Tube, I meandered from Paddington to Finchley Central, in the North West of London, to meet David Brown, the estimable and amiable Pro at Finchley Golf Club.
Arriving at 730 am, after about an hour’s silent subterranean communion with my fellow commuters (I now know how a mole or a miner probably feels!), I found rather to my chagrin that there were no obliging local cabbies around to take me to Frith Lane, the lovely wooded parkland area in which the club is located. David was most kind when I called him and very obligingly drove over to pick me up.
Kitting me out with a nice set of Ping Eye 2 Irons, a G2 Driver and a Course Planner booklet was the work of a moment and we turned to the next job of finding me a partner. Luckily Sydney Levy, one of the members drove up just then and I was able to join him and the members of his regular company to make up the fourth.
We decided to play partners with the stakes for the round being a Golf Ball each to the winning twosome. Tossing our Golf Balls, it panned out that Sydney Levy and Leon Smith would be partners and that I would partner Derick Petter. It was rather enjoyable to be a part of the easy camaraderie of these three gentlemen of middle years, all of whom are sportsmen in the best traditions of the game of golf! Walking down to the first tee, I was seized with the familiar addictive feeling of playing hooky from school, on a Monday morning, running off as it were, to play Golf!
Located in Frith lane since 1930, Finchley is a challenging par 72 course, designed by the great James Braid and laid out over some 6000 odd yards in beautiful, rolling landscape once belonging to a Victorian stately home, now converted into Finchley’s well appointed clubhouse. It is a picturesque course and being bounded by great trees and numerous shrubs, quite easily gives one the illusion of being deep in the countryside whilst actually being located in the middle of a great city.
The beauties of Nature bathed in the morning sun were apparent all around us and adding to our enjoyment was that ever-so-slight nip in the air – crystal clear atmosphere, birds chirping, the fragrance of freshly mown grass and all the other intangibles that go to make up a truly wonderful morning golf experience.
The first hole is an interesting Par 4 of 282 yards – a pretty straight approach with no lurking dangers so we had a net five, losing to our opponents.
I hadn’t frankly had time to refer to the course planner and was quite literally flying blind as it were, but I am of the firm belief that those of us who play golf for the camaraderie, fun and exercise enjoy ourselves much better when we judge the lie of the land for ourselves, without relying on the more modern aids. Of course, it is not so often that one gets a “second chance” as it were and this fact is nowhere more evident than on the golf course where one must try and make each shot count, but having said that, I enjoyed myself so much on the course, that the scores didn’t really matter very much!
The 126 yard par 3 third hole is a sheer joy to play, thramming the ball with a Pitching Wedge to land on the edge of the green for a chip, a putt and a par. Very satisfying indeed!
The beauties of James Braid’s design became more and more apparent when we saw that not one fairway criss-crossed with any other, the whole course being laid out in a clear forward progression with each tee and fairway being set away from the previous one.
I must pause here to compliment the quality of maintenance of the fairways and greens. Having played most of my golf in India, it genuinely was a pleasure to play through the “roughs” at Finchley whenever it was occasioned by a mis-hit, because apart from the lurking dangers of some few Gorse bushes here and there, the roughs are certainly so much more civilized than the ones I am used to!
Worthy of mention is the quality of the green-keeping – while the pin positions were quite straightforward, the greens are very lively indeed, with all sorts of hidden dangers from sudden slopes, different breaks and extremely slick surfaces!
The 7th hole, a pretty testing Par 3, 198 yard hole, was well tried with a 4 Iron for accuracy and coming down in four, I didn’t feel too bad, because I was pleased with the way I had judged the tee shot and then approach wedged the second onto the green.
Finishing the front nine are the longest hole, the par 5, 505 yard, 8th where I am pleased to have had a bogey and an equally daunting 470 yard par 5, 9th where we went down for par!
Moving on to the back nine, I must mention the 12th Hole in particular, as this is considered to be the real signature hole of the Finchley Course. A wicked 152 yard Par 3, with terrifying Pines and Conifers bounding the right side of your approach will surely cause any but the toughest minds to quail!
However, the terror of this hole is amply compensated when you walk up to the steeply sloping green and behold the imposing view of the Club house behind it! My partner Derick and I made a 4 on this, which we promptly forgave ourselves for!
I had been warned that the fairways were narrow and one might get a bit tangled up in the tall trees which abounded, but to my mind, the fairways seemed much wider than those at our Bangalore Golf Club!
Throughout the round, my three playing partners kept each other and me regaled with much good natured ribbing. I was witness, at regular intervals to their strange battle cry of “hot cheese” whenever one of their esteemed number landed in one of the numerous bunkers around!
The 122 yard Par 3 15th hole is also a joy to play off with an 8 iron to get one sufficient distance coupled with the necessary loft.
The course has its ups and downs, with rolling fairways and some decent climbs, but all in all, it is a relatively “user friendly” course, which doesn’t tax one too much in the physical sense.
Of course those of us who play regularly in India and Asia, need to get used to the fact that there are no caddies and so on, but truth be told, pulling one’s own trolley along, judging one’s own distances, choosing one’s own clubs and figuring out one’s own putting line are very good things, since one learns immense self reliance and at the same time, begins to appreciate the little things which one takes for granted here at home in India!
Finishing the 17th, another Par 5 of 442 yards in 6, we meandered along to the 18th and final hole of the day, a deceptive Par 4 of 412 yards. You are required to place your shot well to the left, in order to guarantee reasonable success being on the clubhouse green in two. While the green is a decent sized one it is not always true that “the bigger the target the easier it is to hit”, as I found out to my cost. Going down in 5 we bogeyed our last hole that day to lose a Golf Ball each to our opponents!
In the best spirits of sportsmanship the four of us repaired to the 19th and had ourselves a couple of tall glasses of tissue restorative tonic each prior to exchanging email id’s and parting ways. A fitting finale indeed, to a good round of golf and for me a highly enjoyable experience!
I will wholeheartedly endorse Finchley’s claim to being one of the friendliest clubs in North London – they certainly are very welcoming and make a visitor feel completely at home there!
Saturday, March 24, 2007
Golf at Heythrop Park, Oxfordshire, UK.
Golf at Heythrop Park – Enstone, Oxfordshire, England.
Driving through the beautiful mid-summer countryside of England, I was struck by the similarity to details gleaned from years of reading Dick Francis, P. G. Wodehouse, James Herriot and of course innumerable movies and so on.
From the depths of “Horse Country” – Cheltenham town and a number of quaint little market towns like Stow-on-the-wold, Chipping Norton, Bourton-on-the-water and the like, we drove through the lovely “A” Roads, completely deserted except for the occasional Land Rover, complete with attached horse-box, to get to Heythrop Park, an Historic Country Manor located in Enstone, Oxfordshire.
Heythrop is a magnificent pile, commissioned by the then Earl of Shrewsbury, Charles Talbot in the early eighteenth century and built lovingly by architect Thomas Archer, incorporating all the beautiful Roman influences much loved by Charles Talbot. Owing to certain financial setbacks the estate was leased (according to the fact sheet) to the Duke of Beaufort, who apparently used, for light recreation, to bring his thoroughbred hunters and pedigreed hounds from Badminton in not-so-far-away Gloucestershire, to chivvy the red and bushy tailed British fox in what is today Heythrop Hunt country.
The Manor House hove into view at the end of a 3 or 4 km long wooded driveway, where we saw a few rabbits and hares darting across the road and stopping suddenly, mesmerized by our powerful headlights. The facilities which are today run by a commercial venture and primarily used for large weddings, conferences and so on, include amongst other things, a nice 9 hole golf course located within the rolling, undulating parkland, dotted with fine English Yew and Oak trees, with occasional views of the surrounding hills, woods and pretty stone crofters cottages and stables.
Replete with and fortified suitably by a rather hearty full English breakfast – scads of scrambled eggs, toast, butter, cheese, legions of sausages and nice crisp bacon washed down with approximately a gallon or two of coffee, I decided to try and get a round of golf before wending our way towards the afternoon horse races at Windsor, our next stop. (My old pal Tarun and I had rather over indulged ourselves on the fine malts the previous night, having been rather overcome by the experience of fine living and playing at being Lord of the Manor!).
The first fairway rolls out from the main front gate of the Manor House while the Golf Club and Pro Shop are located in one of the Wings of the main building. I waddled (quite literally) off to the clubhouse, collected a half set of assorted irons, woods and a middling putter and wandered off to the first tee in search of a playing partner or two. I chanced upon two friendly members, Alan Betts and his son Ben, both of whom were just warming up. They welcomed me to join them and we set off in a companionable manner along the wide first fairway. On my third shot (since I had tangled myself up unwittingly in some shrubbery), I pulled out my 7 Iron to roll the little white sphere back onto the fairway – only to find, to my chagrin, that the 7 Iron in my half set, was a child’s golf club! (Serves me right for not checking the bag first and anyway trying to play golf nursing a sore head!).
Meandering along the undulating fairways, I was (in between shots) enjoying the hilly scenery around me – breathing in the clean country air and simply revelling in the atmosphere (taking time out as it were, to smell the flowers.) The UK in Summertime was so powerfully evocative of dear old Ooty and the surrounding Nilgiri Hills, where I grew up, right down to the assorted flora and even in some cases fauna, not to mention the surrounding grassland, which is ablaze with summer flowers, that I felt completely at home!
Well, at the end of the round, walking along the path back to the Clubhouse from the 9th green, I found to the surprise of Alan and Ben, that I had racked up a reasonable score that morning, shooting 39, at 3 over par for nine holes. (It must be true that Dame Fortune favours the brave in collusion with the God Dionysus, because to be completely honest, I simply hauled off and let fly at every tee with whatever suitable club came to hand except, of course, that fore-shortened number 7!).
Heythrop is quite centrally located in that it serves as the Gateway to the Cotswold Hills and within very comfortable driving access to places of interest like Stratford-Upon-Avon (William Shakespeare’s birthplace), Henley-on- Thames (where the great annual Oxford and Cambridge Regatta is held), Blenheim Palace (the birthplace of Sir Winston Churchill), the historic medieval town of Warwick, the University Town of Oxford (the city of dreaming spires), Silverstone Racetrack (for Motor sport enthusiasts) and again, not very far away, is the Town of Windsor famous for the Castle and its historic racecourse (for those aficionados preferring the Sport of Kings - horse racing, to noisy and smelly cars!).
My suggestion is that it is well worth trying out if you intend a holiday or even a weekend, in that part of the world. You are more than likely to find some rather excellent and surprisingly inexpensive deals going, via the Internet – and I can personally vouch for the fact that the sheer beauty of the Main Building, the scenery around, the bar’s selection of wines and spirits, the breakfast, AND the Golf, will make it worth your while!
Driving through the beautiful mid-summer countryside of England, I was struck by the similarity to details gleaned from years of reading Dick Francis, P. G. Wodehouse, James Herriot and of course innumerable movies and so on.
From the depths of “Horse Country” – Cheltenham town and a number of quaint little market towns like Stow-on-the-wold, Chipping Norton, Bourton-on-the-water and the like, we drove through the lovely “A” Roads, completely deserted except for the occasional Land Rover, complete with attached horse-box, to get to Heythrop Park, an Historic Country Manor located in Enstone, Oxfordshire.
Heythrop is a magnificent pile, commissioned by the then Earl of Shrewsbury, Charles Talbot in the early eighteenth century and built lovingly by architect Thomas Archer, incorporating all the beautiful Roman influences much loved by Charles Talbot. Owing to certain financial setbacks the estate was leased (according to the fact sheet) to the Duke of Beaufort, who apparently used, for light recreation, to bring his thoroughbred hunters and pedigreed hounds from Badminton in not-so-far-away Gloucestershire, to chivvy the red and bushy tailed British fox in what is today Heythrop Hunt country.
The Manor House hove into view at the end of a 3 or 4 km long wooded driveway, where we saw a few rabbits and hares darting across the road and stopping suddenly, mesmerized by our powerful headlights. The facilities which are today run by a commercial venture and primarily used for large weddings, conferences and so on, include amongst other things, a nice 9 hole golf course located within the rolling, undulating parkland, dotted with fine English Yew and Oak trees, with occasional views of the surrounding hills, woods and pretty stone crofters cottages and stables.
Replete with and fortified suitably by a rather hearty full English breakfast – scads of scrambled eggs, toast, butter, cheese, legions of sausages and nice crisp bacon washed down with approximately a gallon or two of coffee, I decided to try and get a round of golf before wending our way towards the afternoon horse races at Windsor, our next stop. (My old pal Tarun and I had rather over indulged ourselves on the fine malts the previous night, having been rather overcome by the experience of fine living and playing at being Lord of the Manor!).
The first fairway rolls out from the main front gate of the Manor House while the Golf Club and Pro Shop are located in one of the Wings of the main building. I waddled (quite literally) off to the clubhouse, collected a half set of assorted irons, woods and a middling putter and wandered off to the first tee in search of a playing partner or two. I chanced upon two friendly members, Alan Betts and his son Ben, both of whom were just warming up. They welcomed me to join them and we set off in a companionable manner along the wide first fairway. On my third shot (since I had tangled myself up unwittingly in some shrubbery), I pulled out my 7 Iron to roll the little white sphere back onto the fairway – only to find, to my chagrin, that the 7 Iron in my half set, was a child’s golf club! (Serves me right for not checking the bag first and anyway trying to play golf nursing a sore head!).
Meandering along the undulating fairways, I was (in between shots) enjoying the hilly scenery around me – breathing in the clean country air and simply revelling in the atmosphere (taking time out as it were, to smell the flowers.) The UK in Summertime was so powerfully evocative of dear old Ooty and the surrounding Nilgiri Hills, where I grew up, right down to the assorted flora and even in some cases fauna, not to mention the surrounding grassland, which is ablaze with summer flowers, that I felt completely at home!
Well, at the end of the round, walking along the path back to the Clubhouse from the 9th green, I found to the surprise of Alan and Ben, that I had racked up a reasonable score that morning, shooting 39, at 3 over par for nine holes. (It must be true that Dame Fortune favours the brave in collusion with the God Dionysus, because to be completely honest, I simply hauled off and let fly at every tee with whatever suitable club came to hand except, of course, that fore-shortened number 7!).
Heythrop is quite centrally located in that it serves as the Gateway to the Cotswold Hills and within very comfortable driving access to places of interest like Stratford-Upon-Avon (William Shakespeare’s birthplace), Henley-on- Thames (where the great annual Oxford and Cambridge Regatta is held), Blenheim Palace (the birthplace of Sir Winston Churchill), the historic medieval town of Warwick, the University Town of Oxford (the city of dreaming spires), Silverstone Racetrack (for Motor sport enthusiasts) and again, not very far away, is the Town of Windsor famous for the Castle and its historic racecourse (for those aficionados preferring the Sport of Kings - horse racing, to noisy and smelly cars!).
My suggestion is that it is well worth trying out if you intend a holiday or even a weekend, in that part of the world. You are more than likely to find some rather excellent and surprisingly inexpensive deals going, via the Internet – and I can personally vouch for the fact that the sheer beauty of the Main Building, the scenery around, the bar’s selection of wines and spirits, the breakfast, AND the Golf, will make it worth your while!
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