Saturday dawned beautiful and bright - yes I was tired - but the surrounds of Westport acted as a stimulus to my weariness. The mountain Croagh Patrich, provides an incredible backdrop to this West of Ireland town and my early morning walk, prior to breakfast, was a further catalyst to any tiredness left in my bones. It also provided a boost to my appetite for the full Irish breakfast awaiting me in The Helm.
Duly fed and watered, the coach was loaded with our golfing gear and we set off on the two hour journey to Connemara Golf Club, a links course, which enjoys a superlative reputation among golfers of every class. For me, this was a particularly special event because I had never previously played a true links course and was told by a number of my golfing colleagues that I was in for a treat.
However, before that treat occurred and only 10 miles from our intended destination, it became obvious that there was a problem! It wasn't a small one either. It turned out that we were heading for the wrong course! The one we were due to play was Carne Golf Club which at that stage was 90 miles to the North of us and at least three hours by bus!! How could this have happened? However it did happen and with no chance of playing anywhere else, Connemara Golf Club pulled out all the stops and we ended up playing our round of golf an hour later than originally planned and in the middle of a Club competition. It was typical of the Irish way and we were all eternally grateful for the stops that they pulled out for us on that day.
My first experience of links golf almost destroyed me and from being top five the day before, I sank into the relegation zone and but for the generosity of one Olly Burton, I would have finished bottom of the pack! The ignominy of it but thanks to Olly for being a crappier golfer than me on the day!
I couldn't blame the weather nor could I blame the conditions. A more perfect day to play links golf simply doesn't exist and despite the poor quality of my golf, Connemara was a true golfing paradise. I can well understand why people fly in and out of this course by helicopter to enjoy the challenges it offers.
We had thought that on departing for our return to The Helm that the troubles experienced to date by the touring party were well behind us but how wrong can you be? You see on returning to our base, it is traditional to stop off at a local hostelry to re-fuel with Guinness or whatever takes your fancy. A quick stop that it is and then back on the bus. All fine until 10 miles further along our journey, another elder member of the party, Tom (known as Purple) Hayes announced that he had left his man bag in the pub!! A decision was made to return immediately to retrieve it and John, our bus driver, executed a twenty three point turn on the narrowest of roads and with something of an overhang behind us - think The Italian Job - and we were on our way back to the pub where the bag was handed over.
The rest of the journey passed without incident and despite the problems that confronted us and the pathetic golf that was played by a few, the consensus was that we had experienced a day never to forget. I had to agree.
Duly fed and watered, the coach was loaded with our golfing gear and we set off on the two hour journey to Connemara Golf Club, a links course, which enjoys a superlative reputation among golfers of every class. For me, this was a particularly special event because I had never previously played a true links course and was told by a number of my golfing colleagues that I was in for a treat.
However, before that treat occurred and only 10 miles from our intended destination, it became obvious that there was a problem! It wasn't a small one either. It turned out that we were heading for the wrong course! The one we were due to play was Carne Golf Club which at that stage was 90 miles to the North of us and at least three hours by bus!! How could this have happened? However it did happen and with no chance of playing anywhere else, Connemara Golf Club pulled out all the stops and we ended up playing our round of golf an hour later than originally planned and in the middle of a Club competition. It was typical of the Irish way and we were all eternally grateful for the stops that they pulled out for us on that day.
My first experience of links golf almost destroyed me and from being top five the day before, I sank into the relegation zone and but for the generosity of one Olly Burton, I would have finished bottom of the pack! The ignominy of it but thanks to Olly for being a crappier golfer than me on the day!
I couldn't blame the weather nor could I blame the conditions. A more perfect day to play links golf simply doesn't exist and despite the poor quality of my golf, Connemara was a true golfing paradise. I can well understand why people fly in and out of this course by helicopter to enjoy the challenges it offers.
We had thought that on departing for our return to The Helm that the troubles experienced to date by the touring party were well behind us but how wrong can you be? You see on returning to our base, it is traditional to stop off at a local hostelry to re-fuel with Guinness or whatever takes your fancy. A quick stop that it is and then back on the bus. All fine until 10 miles further along our journey, another elder member of the party, Tom (known as Purple) Hayes announced that he had left his man bag in the pub!! A decision was made to return immediately to retrieve it and John, our bus driver, executed a twenty three point turn on the narrowest of roads and with something of an overhang behind us - think The Italian Job - and we were on our way back to the pub where the bag was handed over.
The rest of the journey passed without incident and despite the problems that confronted us and the pathetic golf that was played by a few, the consensus was that we had experienced a day never to forget. I had to agree.
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