I’m holding my finish on the immaculate 15th tee in Praia Del Rey. More in horror than in hope. My titleist has decided to go home and is heading for America, despite the onshore breeze. “It’s coming back.” Says my comedian of a playing partner, as two yards of wind blown late fade forlornly eat into the 100 yards of towering pull that sent it sailing beyond the OB. Way Over the wild and floriferous scrub, hunkering tenuously, on the jagged sandy cliffs. My ball Disappearing perfectly, into the protean cauldron of elements, bordering this generous and magnificent hole; all the way from the High tee, down to the shimmering and tilted green in the swirling distance. My ball, lost, where the sky met the horizon and the crashing Atlantic rollers below.
We all agreed we could play here every day. We loved the routing. The variety. The conditioning. A championship golf course that’s fun to play and has no weak holes. To lose a ball here is not easy, but it can be done.
Date: July 11, 2019