Today I am annoyed…
One night here, two nights there, each time hauling 20 cases of
clothes, food, wine and dirty dishes up stairs and lifts.
Travelling with the dogs is no easy task, especially on a tight budget.
Our final two holiday nights were planned to be in St Jean de Luz, in an apartment right
on the prestigious Nivelle golf course. At 70 euros a round, Wendy had agreed
that only I should play, her game not being quite up to the standard of a licenced
club such as this. It was a noble gesture which I accepted with open club-face.
As our hotel afforded us some discount on the course we spend the extra on a
buggy, to ease me up the hilly course with my still aching Achilles tendon
which I injured a few weeks back. Ever more nobly still, she agreed to drive the
buggy - a chauffeured round, what bliss.
3.27pm we were to tee-off.
3.25pm it started to rain. Just a shower, they said.
7.15pm we retuned with a three figure scorecard and rain dripping out
of my golf bag and my underpants….as the downpour at last subsided.
Golf in the rain is not my favoured sport…why would it be when we live
in a hot country like this? The Nivelle course may have a world-wide
reputation, with its established trees and distant views of the ocean, but it isn’t
my sort of thing really. All that Pringle and moustaches, Jaguar’s in the
car-park and glowering club-captains, scrutinising your swing with distain. I
know all this exists in UK
but, usually, golf is a little more relaxed in France. Still, it was nice to
finish our holiday with a game on a course I had been longing to play.
Whilst packing up on our last morning, feeling wholly guilty about Wendy
not getting to play as well, I suggested, on our way home, that there was
another course a few minutes up the road. Nothing flash, just a 9 hole. In fact
there are 26 courses within 20 minutes of Biarritz,
enough for 2 weeks worth, non-stop, if you have that much stamina.
Why don’t we drop in, play 9 holes, have some lunch and then head home,
ending our holiday on a high note?
And…the sun is shining again.
It’s a deal.
Up this tiny track we went, until a beautiful mass of green appeared
before us, to a back-drop of the sun gleaming off the vast Atlantic.
No stuffy old farts to scrutinise the pockets on my shorts or Wendy’s
trainers instead of proper golf shoes. We were even offered free trolleys from
a smiling receptionist.
Now this is more like it.
Wow, what a course - each and every hole a dream to play. Not the
normal burnt up grass either, but lush and green fairways, with not even the
traditional howling wind that one expects on a links.
5 holes up on the cliff-tops and then down steeply into a revine by the
beach for 4 more, Wendy giving me a tough contest, me losing balls in bushes and
lakes by the dozen. Fabulous!
I did manage a very narrow victory with a 20 foot put on the last hole,
but letting her win would never have pleased either of us.
And so to the beach for a celebratory beer, Wendy’s round! A most
splendid restaurant overlooking the Bay of Biscay
drew us in for a beer, 2 plates of crisp salad and a bottle of chilled
Sancerre. With steps down 20 metres to the beach, things got even better. For
once, there was a lack of signs denoting a shaggy dog, with a red line through
it.
Yes, the beach was dog friendly.
We couldn’t leave this, not now.
A quick check-in to one more apartment was all it took. Just one final
shuffle up those stairs to one more dingy room. But no, this one has plenty of
space, a great view of the sea and costs next to bugger-all.
Every dog has his day. And, for the four of us, ours is today.
And that’s why I am annoyed. If we had found this place on day one, there
would have only ever been one shifting of suitcases…
And now, more decisions to be made.
Let’s stay some more nights….?
Phone the bank, quick.
No comments:
Post a Comment