#Pattaya#golf#humour#Thailand
I live on the dark side, within a stone’s throw of a famous golf-course, so it is obvious that when I want a safe place for granddaughter to stretch her little legs, I head out towards the golf-course. I have never played golf. The nearest I got to playing was putting when I was a boy. I admire golfers. They stride out in nice shoes and whites, and hit balls long distances and usually pot them.
Yesterday, I decided to go on to the actual golf-course but first I wanted my granddaughter to eat so I ordered a couple of tasty dishes from the attached restaurant – which I ate myself because a baby’s appetite is as fickle as a pickle. (And if that makes any sense, then the rest of this article will, too.)
After my nosh, we headed out and found a sand-dune near a large stretch of dark, deep water. We avoided the water but Alice went for the sand. I sat down and started to contemplate the fair surroundings while keeping an eye on baby. A balmy ten minutes passed, then the breezy silence was broken by a shout, then two. I turned. In the distance, a parked buggy had unloaded a Thai lady and two golfers who were shouting at us to exit the dune. I think I heard a “fuck” drifting down to us on the wind but I can’t be sure. We got out of the way and found another little beach surrounded by extravagantly green lawn. I heard a Thai guy from the restaurant which overlooked the dune saying “farang” in a loud voice and a warden suddenly appeared, riding a dark, purring, battery-driven, little car. When I said, “Babies like sand and we did when we were small…” he smiled, generously, and nicely, and genuinely.
As I made my way back to the car, dragging a disappointed, little girl along with me, I noticed people in buggies, leaning out, staring at me. The girl-drivers were smiling. The golfers were not.
I drove out of the course, reflecting that maybe the lunch had not covered the damage we had done. Why, initially, the polite staff had even arrived in the car park in a little vehicle to give me and Alice a lift to the preparation-area before our supposed tee-up (or off). We had not hosed ourselves up and / or down when we entered the restaurant and the golf-course which may mean trouble for the greenery (or the restaurant or us). Who knows? I certainly don’t.
All in all, a most pleasant chucking-off, and many apologies to the golfers whose game was temporarily interrupted by toddler and me. This morning golf seems a most civilised pastime. If we’d settled in the middle of a football-pitch yesterday afternoon…why, I probably wouldn’t be writing this eulogy to the smooth-lawned, sandy, watery golf-course just up my soi. Rumour has it it’s expensive. I suppose my lunch was, too, but my fine was zero.
Alice forgot about the bad men who protect play-sand when we started feeding the peacocks just down the road from the golf course. The big, colourful birdies like grass that grows by tree-trunks, so much so they will leap up in the air to have a peck, hurling themselves against the cage. This amused me and Alice – to see the wee, Jurassic monsters high-jumping like Olympic missiles, forgetting their formidable tails. I was amused so much, I became inspired. I will propose a competition when next drinking down my local. The competition will involve my acquaintances, several beers beforehand, and a trip to peacock-arena to see whose cock can rise the highest after a blade of carefully withheld grass.
Just hope the guard there won’t chuck us off before the fun begins.