Golf, was the answer that Marnie would give to people who asked how I would spend my time here. I was perpetually offended by this inference of an extended vacation, when really my intention this year was to find out if writing was something I could foresee doing full time. The verdict? I really enjoy writing, and I still think there are a few more short stories or a novel floating around between my ears. But making a living writing full time is hard, and some of the unrepentant snobbery I’ve encountered on my writing forum has put me off a bit. None of us are Hemingway yet, people—lighten up.
So finally, after a year in South Africa, I dusted off my war clubs for a round of golf at Parkview. The early summer sunrise, whilst maddening from a sleeping perspective, at least makes getting 18 holes in before 10 am very doable. The course itself isn’t instantly recognizable as “African”, apart from the hadedas, Egyptian geese and Guinea fowl that graze on the fairways. That, and the groundskeepers, whose repeated attempts to sell you baggies of stray balls they’ve found is very African indeed.
The layout is fairly straightforward, with holes straddling either side of a creek bed. Or maybe not so straightforward, as I somehow conspired to miss the four hole loop accessed by a passage underneath a road cutting across the course. I played the two holes back to the clubhouse before I figured out my error, and was too embarrassed to walk all the way back across the course to play the missing holes. On the upside, my final score was about twenty strokes lighter than it might have been otherwise.
I started off brightly enough, just missing my par putt on the first hole. Then the two guys in front of me waved for me to play through, and I promptly one-hopped my drive into the road. The driver was not to make another appearance for a while. The best holes are 1-7, south of another road that bisects the course, offering dramatic views of Brixton tower downtown. The surrounding homes of Westcliff and Parktown give a country club type of feel, and there are some lovely par threes for those who have tired of smashing their drives into the creek.
On 6, a foursome in front of me waived me through yet again, and this time I tucked a cute chip in close for a tap in par, thus avoiding any further embarrassment. Considering I hadn’t golfed an actual round since October of 2009, I thought I played respectably. Especially since I figured out, with comical results, that the distance markers are in meters, not yards. The only problem is now that I’ve had a taste, I’ll have to wait for Ohio to thaw out before I get the chance to embarrass myself again.
So finally, after a year in South Africa, I dusted off my war clubs for a round of golf at Parkview. The early summer sunrise, whilst maddening from a sleeping perspective, at least makes getting 18 holes in before 10 am very doable. The course itself isn’t instantly recognizable as “African”, apart from the hadedas, Egyptian geese and Guinea fowl that graze on the fairways. That, and the groundskeepers, whose repeated attempts to sell you baggies of stray balls they’ve found is very African indeed.
The layout is fairly straightforward, with holes straddling either side of a creek bed. Or maybe not so straightforward, as I somehow conspired to miss the four hole loop accessed by a passage underneath a road cutting across the course. I played the two holes back to the clubhouse before I figured out my error, and was too embarrassed to walk all the way back across the course to play the missing holes. On the upside, my final score was about twenty strokes lighter than it might have been otherwise.
I started off brightly enough, just missing my par putt on the first hole. Then the two guys in front of me waved for me to play through, and I promptly one-hopped my drive into the road. The driver was not to make another appearance for a while. The best holes are 1-7, south of another road that bisects the course, offering dramatic views of Brixton tower downtown. The surrounding homes of Westcliff and Parktown give a country club type of feel, and there are some lovely par threes for those who have tired of smashing their drives into the creek.
On 6, a foursome in front of me waived me through yet again, and this time I tucked a cute chip in close for a tap in par, thus avoiding any further embarrassment. Considering I hadn’t golfed an actual round since October of 2009, I thought I played respectably. Especially since I figured out, with comical results, that the distance markers are in meters, not yards. The only problem is now that I’ve had a taste, I’ll have to wait for Ohio to thaw out before I get the chance to embarrass myself again.
Wouldn't you know--I miss a day or two of checking your blogs and you have a writing frenzy!!!!
ReplyDeleteI was wondering if we would have to dust your golf clubs--glad you finally got a round in.
Just three more days! Can't wait to see you both.
Much love,
Mom