Yeah it was a sensational tour. Just amazing the size of the joint, and the emptiness, and the animals therein. Most Aussies sit around the South-east corner and rarely see the Kakadu and Tanami deserts and Darwin and all these far-flung outback joints. Incredible joint, and even over 4 months you could spend another 4 years on the road and not see all of it.
Golf wise, the best course was ... actually - why don't I post the final yarn that went in Golf Digest. Give you a bit of an idea of it. I'll chuck it in a New Post.
cheers.
oh yeah - and were in Coogee? I'm currently in Brook St above the rugby club, but lived all over it...
actually I can't fit the whole thing in...
But some best ofs are:
Best Course? The great Barnbougle Dunes in the north-east of Tasmania. I'll say no more. You just have to get on the internet and book your flights and get down to Launceston and drive up to Bridport and walk into the pro shop and pay your cash and play Barnbougle Dunes. Then write us a letter and tell us it's not the best links in Australia. Though we won't publish it. Because you will be a liar!
The next best course? Very, very, very, very, very hard to separate Magenta Shores, Hope Island, Sanctuary Cove (Pines), Joondalup, The Cut, Royal Canberra, the National (Moonah course), Kooindah Waters, Cypress Lakes, Bonville, Brookwater, Mt.Broughton, Huntingdale, Coolum and Lakelands.
I also greatly enjoyed Dunsborough Lakes, Federal, Royal Adelaide, Settler's Run, Gold Creek, Tasmania, Pacific Dunes, Meadow Springs, Royal Hobart, Royal Perth, Darwin, The Grange and Glenelg. Highly honourable mentions to the excellent linksy numbers at Albany, Lakes Entrance, Narooma and Warrnambool. Everyone should play the fine regional tracks at Launceston, Mt.Gambier, and Mt.Isa, the wildlife-infested courses at Margaret River and Esperance, and the unique Port Augusta (red dirt and scorpions), Tallwoods (tall woods) and Palmerston (men who could drink and swear for Australia).
Most exotic courses were the “The Boabs” in Derby with its carrion-eating eagle, the hot and thirsty green job at Broome with its Eddie the Eagle, and the sandscrapes at Kununurra and Tennant Creek. The course at Humpty Doo is so green and wild it's like playing in Borneo. Yet the most exotic one of all was the great green beast that 74-year-old local legend Cyril Rioli carved from the jungle up on Melville Island. You should, before you die, get out and play it. You will need a machete, however.
Most fun? Drinking red vino and tooling about in golf carts while contesting an Ireland versus Australia Skins match until dark with Micko, Youngy and Wingeing Johnny at Margaret River. Classic madmen who care for nowt in life but golf and good times.
To that end, Margaret River seemed the most liveable place in Australia. Rural aspect, great vino, brilliant beaches, friendly folks, temperate climate and a golf club full of madmen who care for nowt in life but golf and good times. And if not there, the Mornington Peninsula – probably the best region for golf in the country. I would join The National. And I would play it all.
The nicest bloke gong probably goes to Len “The Spaniard” Thomas. Len used to play golf in the '60s so well that he came down the stretch with Palmer and Nicklaus in various Australian Opens. He made the cut in the British Open with Peter Thomson. He now plays off about 12 and you should look him up if you're heading to Dunsborough Lakes and/or China because he's as nice a fellah as there is in Dunsborough Lakes and/or China.
Another vying for the best bloke Oscar is Stan “Motza” Thomson, the Tennant Creek and Northern Territory sandscrapes golf champion, and champion. Once an SP Bookie and miner, now Stan fights off goannas that want to eat his canaries, and plays golf off about six with a very tight little golf swing. Another you should look up if you're in the Creek. Or up it.
Best meal on tour was probably the Geraldton lobster washed down by Kiwi sauvignon blanc that myself and photographer Jane devoured as the sun went down over the Indian Ocean and dolphins frolicked at Monkey Mia. Delicious. And then a German woman had a bit of a turn and ran around the campsite in her bikini dragging her suitcase behind her and telling people she wanted to fly home to Berlin immediately. She ended up sleeping in Jane's tent and cried all night like a very sad banshee. Testing times. But it was a very nice lobster.
Strangest place: Monkey Mia. Why anyone would drive 4000km to a campsite only to see tame dolphins get fed fish is so far beyond me it's like a gay non-golfer on Pluto.
Biggest disappointment: not playing golf anywhere between Mt.Isa and Rockhampton. The floods were horrendous.
Biggest bonus: being stuck in Darwin during the floods – worse places to play golf and drink beer for two weeks, I will give you the tip.
Best Sunday session: Humpty Doo Tavern. Cold beer in foam coolers. Tattoos and nipple rings. Harleys and bee-hive hairdos. Sign on the wall says: “Men must wear pants”. Truly this is a special place.
Did I improve on the 12 handicap? Slowly but surely. I finished the tour on ten. Today I'm off 9. Because while playing golf every day is bloody great fun, you'll really only maintain your standard. To really improve, to get the ball-striking consistency which earns a shot at the title in every week's comp, you need to beat balls. And you need to beat 'em a lot. And hit a hundred putts on your carpet every day. And get a few lessons. And beat some more balls. You think the pros are good because they play a lot? Nope. It's because they're boring bastards who beat balls.
And so … that's it, again. Twelve months' worth of yarns about a golf trip around the great south land. Again: it's been fabulous. What's next? Back the other way. “Big Lap II – Anti-clockwise” will head off again one day with a video camera and a plan and my girlfriend. Because there's a hundred courses I didn't get to play. And there's 65 I'd play again. And Jim Morrison be buggered.
Next month: Fifty Reasons I Love Golf.
