Weather permitting (massive snowstorm predicted for the UK this week), on saturday we fly to Nirvana, (well, California).
A week today...what I've waited most of my golfing life for.
In my mind's eye, I have built a vision of what to expect. No doubt it is completely wrong, but for what it's worth, here it is:
A morning drive along a winding, forested road which affords only occasional glimpses of ocean, sand and trees. The air is heavy with the mingled scents of Pine and Cypress underscored with the salty iodine of the shore beyond.
We turn into a small, unpretentious entrance onto a loose-surfaced roadway, covered in needles and pine cones, and begin to track towards the west, towards the Sea.
On either side, golf holes begin to appear out of the terrain; a grand vista at first, then smaller, more intricate details close by the road reveal themselves. The quality of the design and of the maintenance is so perfect that it takes my eyes a good few moments to adjust to the subtlety of the contrasts, to the masterly blending of the shapes, colours and textures of this place.
Up ahead, the rustic, small-scaled Clubhouse is glimpsed between the silvery tree trunks, appearing dappled in the shade cast by the morning sun.
In almost religious, hushed reverence we unpack ourselves and our golfing equipment and make our way to the first tee. Not many people are around: a few other golfers - similarly, and somewhat eerily, quiet, also prepare for their day. I smile to myself, assuming they if they are half as excited as I am, what they really want to do is to whoop and holler and scream as loudly as they can, to do something to break the almost unbearable tension...
Boy, sometimes I scare myself!
Now, where's the emoticon for 'Excited Scotsman'?
FBD.