LANZAROTE GOLF COURSE (SIROCCO MY .........)

LANZAROTE GOLF	https://lanzarotegolfresort.com/en/que-es-lanzarote-golf/
Type of course	Volcanic	18 holes
Course distance	White 6133 m	Yellow 5796 m	Red 4827 m
Holes	4 x par 5	10 x par 4	4 x par 3
Played	01/11/19
Claim to fame: Designer Ron Kirby has respected to the maximum the original land and the typical Lanzarote landscape
As is becoming the norm now, a week’s holiday abroad gives me the opportunity to take time out from sunbathing and experience the local golf course and all that it has to offer. Before departing the UK for our most recent holiday, I had intelligently packed a few items in the hold bag. Balls, tees, gloves, pencils, pitch repairers, markers and shoes. All good, until airport security pulled over Mrs Wormburner and requested the opening of the bag for closer inspection. Whoops! Thankfully after swabbing the balls the security guard deemed they were not being used for hijacking purposes and allowed her to pass through. This particular vacation saw us heading for Lanzarote the northern most and eastern most of the Canary Island, Built upon volcanic rock it erupted from the Atlantic some 15 million years ago and between 1730 and 1736 it suffered 6 years of eruptions which now accounts for its lack of green space. Basking in an average temperature of 24⁰C all year round, the island currently has two 18 hole golf courses and with my holiday accommodation only a 10 minute drive away from Lanzarote Golf it seemed foolish not to rock up and have a go. As we returned from a family visit to the Volcanoes of Timanfaya, I initially checked out the availability for the following day. A twilight session was booked for 3.40 at a cost of 50 euros and an extra 15 euros for carry bag and clubs. Driving up to the course on the LZ 40 and LZ 505 one can see that it is situated on a gentle slope and therefore a carry bag would not be a tiring commodity. The clubhouse is a whitewashed building very much in the mould of most holiday establishments built abroad in the last 30 years. Regular cubes of concrete supported by pillars filled with steel reinforcing bars and topped off with concrete slabs. Nice. Reception, as I have discovered wherever I play abroad is congenial, informative and clearly proud of their course. The pro explains the position of the front 9 and back 9 and where water and toilet stops are readily available, wishes me well on my round and directs me to the course marshall who sits in a large garage surrounded by buggies, trolleys and bags of clubs. Swapping my docket for a bag of clubs I then head of to the first tee, A two ball has just teed off and this gives me time to become accustomed to the Wilson clubs I have been provided with. They are poor, the irons. sand wedge through to six are scuffed and scratched beyond recognition and the faces of the woods are pitted like a 16 year old with rampant acne. The club grips are clearly an antonym as they have none or very little. Now I know “a bad workman always blames his tools” but I had a feeling they were going to cause me problems today along with the gale force wind that was blowing off the sea! It appears that not only is Lanzarote called the island of a 1000 volcanoes it is also considered to be one of the windiest. It is that windy on the day I notch my cap considerably hoping that it doesn’t stem the flow of blood around my cranium. That would never do! After the game a family member suggests to me that the wind may just have been a sirocco. A wind that originates in the African desert and picks up speed as it crosses the Mediterranean Sea. Interesting but sadly wrong, as I am in the middle of the Atlantic and it was no sirocco, it was full force 10 gale. A view of the course sloping away from the tee, quickly reveals there are barely any trees to be seen, there appears to be a limited number of bunkers, no water hazards and there is no long grass either. Instead there are grey areas of volcanic rock which the course card affectionately calls gravel gardens. As the two ball moves on, I observe one person playing out of a gravel garden which contains the odd cactus and rock of varying sizes, which looks similar to pictures of the moon’s surface. The plume of dust and gravel that erupts after the shot makes me realise very quickly why the borrowed clubs are in such a state. I would therefore heavily suggest to anyone coming to play here that they do not bring their own clubs unless they want to destroy them quickly or indeed are after an excuse to buy a new set. Driving off 1^st par 4 SI 14 at 344 m, I do something that rarely happens in my game, I pull the drive and it hurtles precariously close to the out of bounds. My second then does the iron no favours as I chip out of gravel. The 3^rd is caught by the wind and flies wide right of the green. The fourth is a simple chip on but hangs in the wind and fall short. As I am buffeted on the green the three putts that follow are of varying length and distance and lack any consistency. This wind is going to be a nightmare. The Austrian couple in front immediately call me through, so if my first hole was bad, goodness knows what theirs was like. You might be asking yourself; How did he know the two ball in front were Austrian? Well, over the years I have become accustomed to hearing different languages spoken throughout the world and I also like to think I have a good understanding of the anthropological characteristics of different nations and apart from that, the bloke had AUSTRIA in big white letters emblazoned on the back of his red shirt! At the slight dog leg left 2^nd, par 4 SI 4 at 368 m I faired slightly better but was still being buffeted beyond belief. The 3^rd par 3 SI 8 at 174 m was a welcome relief, out of bounds to the left and a raised green with the wind blowing straight down the fairway, club choice was critical as your normal selection would probably fly 20 or 30 yards further on. Thankfully a par made me feel a little better about myself. The 4^th par 5 SI 10 at 435 m is the first of four par 5s on the course and with a slight alteration in wind direction I was once again wind assisted. At this point I came across a well-dressed, if not traditionally archaic four ball. Two of the members sported the chequered long socks and flannels of yesteryear. The flannels flapped in the wind and met the perpendicular rigid socks at the knee, with not a glimpse of skin to be had! Now for a quick history lesson: Early golfers wore clothing to battle the elements in Scotland where golf was born. To guard against the wind blowing off the water at course like St Andrews, men wore knickerbockers or short pants that ended below the knee and heavy tweed jackets. Shirts with starched collards and neck ties were also worn along with sturdy shoes and tweed caps. According to a Vanity Fair advertisement in 1918, the well-dressed golfer could wear a single-breasted jacket with waist coat along with knickers. Cotton long “puttees” or stockings, a golf cap and golf shoes completed the outfit. By the 1920s golf had gained popularity with the more affluent and to distinguish themselves from others they wore “plus fours” or knickers with 4 inches of additional length, patterned socks and two-tone spectator shoes. They continued the tradition of wearing a shirt and tie, over which they placed a knitted cardigan or “Norfolk” jacket on cooler days. In the 1930’s golfers gravitated away from plus fours and knickerbockers to flannels or slacks. They were usually white or grey since men sometimes went to the golf course straight after work in the office. There was also a tendency to remove the collar and tie. In the late 30s because of the heat during the summer periods players moved away from the heavy traditional clothes in favour of the lighter causal clothing which has developed over the last 70 years or so into the expensive gear we are obliged to wear today! History lesson complete. Come the 6^th par 4 SI 2 at 329 m I am cordially invited to pass through. Having observed two of the four players tee off I was self-assured that I would be through and away before they knew it. A wave of disgust and dropped head with a shout of carry on, indicated to them that my tee shot was far below my best. Indeed, it was, as I had obviously chosen a lob driver to hit one high and short! For what its worth I did redeem myself with the second but by then nobody was watching. Bugger. At the 7^th the four ball had frequented the toilet and asked if I would like another opportunity to go through. Not to be seen as a wuss, I chose to do so. A brief conversation highlighted the fact that I had never played this course before and so I was given the advice to hit one directly over the fairway marker. Head down, slow withdrawal; ball, left shoulder and eye all aligned, rapid down swing and it flew like a dream. I was one happy boy as I moved off. Second shot a 3 wood off the down slope just short of the green, a pitch and two putts later I had parred the 442 m SI 12 par 5. I was flying as I moved off to the 8^th. The 9th through to the 13^th were managed particularly well and so to the 14^th par 3 SI 15 at 135 m probably at the apex of the course. This should be a piece of cake however for whatever reason my limited golfing skills departed on the non-abating wind and I felt like a rubber ring lost at sea. Had I taken too long looking at the view in the failing light or had the wind got the better of me? Who knows, suffice to say I bungled this hole big style, tee shot hits gravel, pitch is topped, second pitch is shanked, THIRD pitch shoots over the green, that’s it, I hit an all-time low, the red mist drops and I want to snap my clubs. From here, I could in the fading light move straight to the 18^th or try and complete the course. Not to be beaten I opted for the latter and the 15^th was another nightmare. I would have happily walked off after this, if it wasn’t for the fact that I was now at the furthest point from the club house, so why bother. Surprisingly as the natural light faded my game improved. Perhaps if there was a game called night golf, I might do well at that? The 17^th par 4 at 396 m is meant to be the hardest hole on the course with a SI of 1. Just as well I completed it in the dark. I was now running between shots and in order to save time taking putts with the carry bag on my back. As to where the ball was landing, instinct kicked in and I could sense distance and direction better than I had ever done before. What’s that all about? On completion of the second shot I walked up to the deepest and widest water hazard I had ever seen. It must have been at least 15 m deep and twice as wide and it was empty, apart from a puddle at the bottom with two indigenous ducks waddling around. If I had dropped in there, I reckon nobody would have found me until the elderly gentlemen’s stableford the following morning. In the twilight moving from the 17^th green to the 18^th tee saw me slightly disorientated as I had to go back on myself and not being able to find the yellow tee, I chose to play off the blue, at only 309 m par 4 SI 5. Five shots later I was home and dry, if not weather beaten. A brisk walk up to the club house revealed, shutters down, lights out and nobody at home. On emptying the carry bag. I had no alternative but to leave it behind a park bench between club house and car park. Just as well I hadn’t opted for the buggy or I may have been arrested for driving it at 15 mph along the LZ 40. All in all, then a difficult day. It would be nice someday to return in full daylight and play in a gentle breeze, but that is never going to happen. Back in the Republic of England I regaled a non-playing friend of mine about the trials and tribulations of this game and at the end of my detailed discourse he looked confused. When asked why, he said he couldn’t understand how I could go around a golf course with just a carrier bag! Maybe it’s my accent but it was funny.