Wales is a country steeped in history, revered for its ridiculous sheep population, and of course the people who are renowned worldwide for their singing and rugby talents.
But there’s one thing the Welsh countryside is not known for — and that is being home to what might possibly be the world’s toughest golf course.
When the summer season is in full flow, players of all levels and in their droves head out to their local club to try their hands at either the driving range or a round of golf.
Just recently, I was one of those people as I made my way to the picturesque town of Monmouth on a sun-soaked Saturday morning.
Despite not being an experienced golf player, or a fan of the sport for that matter, it’s safe to say I was not prepared for the task ahead.
Along with my grandfather and a couple of friends, we made our way to Monmouth Golf Club. Driving through tight lanes emblazoned with bright green shrubbery, our vehicle pondered its way up a shallow hill before revealing the majestic facility that would soon capture our wonder for most of the afternoon.
Helped by the stunning weather, which is very unfamiliar in Wales by and large, we headed out on our buggies, equipment in tow, and tried our hand at what we thought was just a simple fun day out.
One thing Monmouth is known for across the country is the stunning views it boasts, and that was more than evident as we traversed from hole to hole, the difficulty of each surging to levels I’d never experienced.
Plus, if you’re looking to shed an extra few pounds, the course is humongous and consists of a range of different terrains: from sharp inclines, to drastic downclines – all accompanied by scenic photograph-esque captures of the local hillside.
The most memorable moment, aside from seeing my grandad — or Bampi as us Welsh often call them — lose his ball seemingly after every shot, was traversing between holes with Germ, the funniest older gentleman one could meet with his constant quips and dry humour.
Remember, there’s that old saying – “it’s not the destination that matters, the real treasure are the friends and memories you make along the way”.
Nevertheless, the golf club itself was prestine if a bit too pricy. The greens were too dry and looked like they had been victim to the burning sunshine (they weren’t the only ones, I had caught the sun a bit too much that day).
But it was a truly tremendous experience for all, especially for Andrew ‘The General’ who managed to conquer the Mount Everest of golf.
The rest of the fun-filled weekend would consist of visits to the town’s various watering holes, namely the Green Dragon which was a beacon for the town’s most interesting people, as well as a size-fits-all dinner at the local Wetherspoons – how can you possibly go wrong?