Course Review and Comments
The prosaic propaganda describing Pennard Golf Course as the Links in the Sky is utterly deceitful and grossly misleading. Dunghill in the Dunes is a far more accurate epithet.
It’s a drab, featureless dystopian nightmare devoid of colour, pleasure or aesthetic interest that can only appeal to bovine masochists and lovers of giant cow turds that reek of unflushed toilets. In fairness to the local cows there are no droppings on the fairways, presumably because there is no grass available for them to eat. If it wasn’t for the cow pats, it would be impossible to distinguish where the fairways ended and the rough began.
The much hyped vistas described in other reviews beggars belief. The Norman castle resembles the Tractor Factory at Stalingrad after the Luftwaffe redecorated it while the view of the bay, complete with river and mountain, is a gun metal grey eyesore that perfectly complements the drab brown lunar landscape of a truly ugly golf course.
The course contains a solitary tree. A sad black hawthorn, bent to a right angle by the howling gale that screams from the sea. To the north is an eye-catching concrete silo that dominates the skyline, a perfect complement to some sort of industrial shed that nestles in the background. The Human Rights Act prevents POW camps looking like this. Guantanamo Bay, minus the sunshine.
Par threes apart, the direction of tee shots were indicated by marker posts. On the rare occasion you could find your ball after a perfectly executed drive, the direction of the second shot was pure guesswork. The greens are either sunk in tank traps or perched on a dune that hid the flags from view. If by some fluke a drive actually stayed on the fairway it offered precious little advantage. The fairways had the texture of a brick with the charm of the hard shoulder on the M4.
In truth, the greens were in immaculate condition, some of the best I have ever played on. Each and every one protected from cattle by an electric wire. This concession to civilisation seems wholly inappropriate to Pennard. Barbed wire fences would be more in keeping with the tenure of the venue.
I couldn’t wait to get off the course to enjoy the comfort of the first rate club house with it’s well chilled ale, friendly staff and amusing members. That said, I would give up the game if all golf courses were like Pennard. It’s my first visit. I will never play there again. Ever.
For the record: August 1913, 18 handicapper, 19 points, too many lost balls to count.
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