Day 104 - Famous hospitality at Cypress Lakes

Posted by Jamie on 16 April 2010 | 1 Comments | Tags: Cypress Lakes, Hunter Valley

I have the unenviable task of trying to follow the brilliance of The Rt. Hon. Matt Cleary with something resembling a yarn.  Cleary though an Australian is in fact one of the funniest humans this side of the Danube.  The fact that he was born to an Irish father (Vincent) and a larrikin of a mother (Vicki) probably has something to do with it.  However I�??m not here to sing the praises of a second rate Aussie golfer; rather I�??m here to share with you just what a treat it was to spend a day or two of our lives at Cypress Lakes Resort in the Hunter Valley.

Peter Holt (Captain of the Golf Club; proprietor of Belford Cabins; brother of a dear friend of Michael�??s father; handy golfer; and one of the kindest Gentleman you�??ll ever come across) hosted us at one of his cabins and at the resort.  And what a generous host he was too.  Pete�??s a builder by trade and shared with a  good few tales of his younger tales living in different parts of this great desert.  He even lived in Adelaide for a bit!  (For some reason unknown to me Adelaide gets a hard time from the rest of Australia for being a dump.  Remarkable really; I reckon it�??s a gem of a country town.  Apparently the widespread ritual ribbing has something to do with the pittance you get paid there unless you work in the oil & gas industry.  Don�??t ask me.)  Pete also spent a bit of time up in Darwin of all places, working on one of The Missions.  So the boy has a few stories.

As I pen this blog, by the way, we�??re driving (well, Michael�??s driving �?? I can multitask but driving and blogging at the same time would be down right dangerous) through the Hunter past dead kangaroos, open cast coal mines, and huge bloody power plants that are billowing out more smoke than Iceland�??s deadly volcanoes.  With Rufus Wainright blaring out of the laptop (Aussie radio is crap), it�??s quite an experience.  Anyway.

On arrival Tuesday night after that vintage day we had at The Vintage with Jack Newton & the comic Cleary, Pete & delightful wife Kathy had us into their home for a beer and a pow wow.  And some delicious roast potatoes.  Stories were swapped, although I can�??t remember any of �??em thanks to the pace of the day that had gone before us and the consequential effect it had on my cognitive functions.  I�??m sure some wise words were spoken though.

I slept like I�??ll probably never sleep again (Mike�??s night was a different story altogether: he had nightmares that puregolf2010 was derailed and we missed a day, then he woke up with a cold, poor soul).  Shame about breakfast.  The night prior Mike had rustled up his specialty pasta, using only the freshest ingredients.  By fresh I mean dried pasta that had been sitting in the boot of the car for near on 5 weeks, and home brand pasta sauce that had been there even longer.  Not Heston Blumenthal, but it filled it a gap �?? both at dinner and in the morning.  Such are the ways of the vagrant lifestyle we lead.

The day took a turn for the better when I went for a run.  Beauuuuutiful views of the Valley.  I�??d never thought of the Hunter as a place of beauty (just wine), but I was pleasantly surprised.  And knackered by the time I got back to the cabin �?? all running fitness has deserted me.  Now, like retired dentists, I just walk.

After torturing myself on the tarmac and enduring the experience of Goldy�??s Pasta, I thought we deserved a treat �?? so we snuck in a couple of wine tastings before golf.  We knew Lakes Folly and Brokenwood as two of the best in these parts, so we stopped in for a chat and a swill.  This not being a wine tasting tour of the globe I�??ll spare you any comments other than that the hospitality was famous and the wine quite delicious.  We spat, of course.  If you ever get a chance to sink a glass of Brokenwood Rayner�??s Block Shiraz, take it.  And if you can, wrangle 2 glasses.

12 o�??clock rolled around and it was time for The Main Event.  Pete met us in Icon�??s Bar �?? one of several F&B establishments within the stately clubhouse which overlooks one of the Lakes �?? and kindly shouted us a burger and chips.  Not a bad view from the deck either, across the 14th which is as treacherous a tee shot as you will see anywhere (pictured below), across a lake that would make Lake Superior look like a puddle.

Pete, Goldy and I napped a couple of carts and made our way through The Great Big Gums to number 1 �?? an �??easy�?� par 5.  You guys should make birdie, Pete said.  That was before he�??d seen us play.  A couple of disappointing pars ensued, but beggars can�??t be choosers.  I had the snap hooks with my driver, so finding my ball from the tee was a tall order in itself.  Goldy took the first few skins off me and �?? just when I thought a few were coming my way, sitting pin high just off the green on the par 5 6th while me mate was 90 metres back �?? he snatched a few more from me, sticking a sand wedge to 6 feet, causing me in my frustration at this immortal opponent to fluff my chip.  A split 6s haggle was boiling away on the side, which proved to be a good match given Pete�??s off a 7 (Goldy being off 6 and me off 8).

It�??s a shame we forgot to take the camera out on course, because there were some stunning vistas.  One or two across the Lakes; one or two peeping from up top across the Valley; one or two of the hills above.  Pretty exhilarating stuff, particularly when your golf�??s so bad that all you can do is look around for inspiration.  We all had our moments.  That said we played from the back markers, which measure a bone chilling 6507 metres or thereabouts.  439 metre par 4s, 230 metre par 3s, etc.  Good clean fun.  If you�??re hitting the ball alright.  Amusing if you�??re not.

It�??s surprising that the course was built where it was, because there�??s barely an inch of topsoil.  Under the fairways are rock and clay and not much else.  That they�??ve managed to plonk a course of the calibre of Cypress Lakes on this spot is a minor miracle.  Then there�??s the climate.  Sure it�??s very pleasant 99% of the time, and doesn�??t get too cold �?? but in summer it can top 55 degrees celsius, so keeping your grass in good nick can be a mission.  Merv �?? the superintendent and Director of Golf �?? shared a few tales with us over coffee this morning about the challenges they�??ve had.  In December, after they�??d cut the greens nice and short for the Jack Newtown Celebrity Classic (which is held here every year) they had a week of mid-forties temps, followed by a week or two of heavy rain.  Needless to say such strains put the grass under a bit of pressure, and something�??s gotta give.  They�??re still recovering, but we could see they�??d be vicious under normal circumstances.

The course is a good test, and if a bit more money was pumped in it could be a pretty top notch resort track.  Money�??s pretty scarce these days though as you all know �?? particularly if you live in Iceland.  In any event, with Cypress and the Vintage round the corner, and the Country Club at the Crowne Plaza down the road (which we didn�??t play) - this is a  quality golfing area.  Combine that with the wine they grow here, and the sheer beauty of the place, and you�??ve got a very marketable resource indeed.  But like Taupo in NZ, politics and egos seem to be getting in the way of a good thing, and there�??s potential there that�??s sitting unrealised.  For the record, this travesty isn�??t the result of a lack of effort from Cypress, who�??ve extended the olive branch on several occasions but got no love.  Shame.  

When all was said and done, I�??d had 80 (13 skins; 47 points in the split sixes), Goldy had 85 (10 skins; 39 points in the split sixes) and Pete had a few more (for 21 split sixes points).  Even though we�??d taken carts, we were pretty jaded and glad to see Icons again.  So we joined Pete and his Wednesday Group of Mates and put the world to rest for a few hours to see in dusk.  A fantastic day.  

By the time darkness fell we still didn�??t know where we were staying last night.  Either we drove to Armidale and camped by the side of the road, or we figured something out in or around Cypress (maybe we could camp by the cabins at Pete�??s?).  We were quite happy to hit the road for 4 hours and bid the lads farewell, but they were having none of it.  Just when the hospitality couldn�??t get any better, Pete and Merv between them arranged for us to stay in one of the villas at the resort.  You wouldn�??t read about it.  These were no shacks either, by the way �?? pristine 2 bedroom double king size with Fox Sports and deck and kitchen and room service and the lot kinda job.  We are two lucky boys.  It was almost embarassing.  

So this morning when we awoke, instead of creaking mercilessly as you do when you wake up lying on sticks and stones, life was particularly good.  It got even better too when we walked 100 metres to the clubhouse and enjoyed the complimentary buffet breakfast.  Which was the best buffet I�??ve ever had, quite seriously.  Bircher muesli with dates and walnuts, and bacon and eggs and fried tomatoes and hash browns, and muffins and waffles and almond croissants and maple syrup.  At the best of times such feasts might induce butterflies of excitement; but when you don�??t quite know where your next meal is coming from and you�??re living off the smell of an oily rag, such feasts bring tears of joy.  So we feasted and now we feel fatter than Louis XVI.  

Merv joined us for a coffee and wagged his chin cheerfully.  A tremendous example of an Australian bloke, if ever there was one.  Wouldn�??t it be nice to be one of those gifted humans who can grip an audience with every story you tell.  Merv�??s one of those rascals.  Unfortunately we were in his grip longer than we should�??ve been, and we�??re now late.  Again.  Goldy�??s doing his best not to get himself another speeding ticket, which will be some achievement given there are more speed cameras �??round here than dead kangaroos.

All in all, a quite memorable couple of days in the Hunter.  Cypress Lakes is quality, and a beautiful plaace to stay.  The locals are as friendly as you�??ll find anywhere.  And the wine�??s not bad too.  Go there, ask for Pete and/or Merv, and you�??ll have the time of your life.  We did.

Thanks boys.

JP