Good food, good company - and of course a spot of golf. The Berkshire you beauty

Posted by Jamie on 29 October 2010 | 1 Comments | Tags: The Berkshire, Herbert Fowler, heathland, England, The Lucifer

I remember it dawning on me several times this year that life is full of contrasts.  Our topsy turvy existence lends itself particularly well to learning this lesson.  Sometimes we wake up in a car and not an hour later are on the receiving end of six star hospitality at one of the world�??s great golf clubs.  Other times everything appears to be going to plan, only for a rogue spanner to be thrown in the works.  One never knows what�??s around the corner.  Nor does two.  Three occasionally has a useful insight.

Ivinghoe and Brian Haworth�??s hospitality have made for a wonderful experience over the past couple of days.  Paying a visit to a humble club with salt of the earth members can be far more fun than dropping in to an exclusive club with members whose noses are up each other�??s posteriors.  Then again we have hardly found any clubs �?? even those with the most stuffy of reputations �?? to be terse, condescending or pretentious.  Quite the opposite, actually.  Often those perceived as being the most elite comprise members just as down to earth and engaging as those at the other end of the spectrum.  In some cases, more so.

And so it was at The Berkshire.  Perched on prime land adjacent to Sunningdale, Swinley Forest and other prestigious hangouts, The Berkshire keeps good company.  The club has a huge red brick mansion of a clubhouse (which, I must say, reminded me of a school �?? a nice one, of course) and two fine Herbert Fowler courses (Red and Blue).  The Red Course is perhaps better known than its brother, for it is one of the few courses in the world that have six par 3s, six par 4s and six par 5s.  We played the Blue, which was a gentle and delightful affair; similar in nature to The New Zealand Club.  

Our host was one Charlie Jamieson, who I can count with confidence among the most interesting and kind people we�??ve met this year.  The sort of guy who by his very nature commands instant respect and admiration.  Charlie�??s a member of The Lucifers Society who, loosely, are a great bunch of like minded individuals �?? businessmen, professionals, etc �?? that through golf maintain ties with the Commonwealth.  As I understand it, they�??ve all worked overseas in Australia, NZ, Canada, HK or wherever; and, having been enriched by their experiences, they extend the hand of friendship through golf to other Commonwealth nationals.  A noble and commendable endeavour indeed.  

Charlie�??s responsible for organising The Lucifers�?? trip to New Zealand this coming February, and so it�??s perhaps not surprising that our paths crossed.  In recent months I�??ve been corresponding with him by email and in that time he�??s been kind enough to fix a series of games for us with other Lucifers.  (Incidentally, a side note: the founders wanted to call themselves The Match Society but that name was already taken so...the common (only?) brand of matches (as in the ones that make fire) at the time was Lucifers...hence The Lucifers).  He and they really have been very kind to us.  

On a bright, fresh Saturday morning we did the usual routine of wandering between pro shop and breakfast bar, looking for someone who looked like they might be called (in this case) Charlie Jamieson.  Fortunately he�??d been on this blog at least once, and knew what we looked like.  Surely being a trio of bright eyed bushy tailed Kiwis in scruffy gear we stick out in places like The Berkshire, anyway.  Because Charlie hadn�??t brought a pal, he invited Bart to play too.  In an instant Bart was transformed from the kid who gets picked last at football to the kid who�??s just won a trip to Disneyland in a radio competition.  Just Thrilled, he was.  A nice moment.

As I wrestled with a couple of golden retrievers by the putting green Charlie disappeared and reappeared, this time furnishing us with cards and stroke savers.  No excuses then.  Like Royal Lytham and Walton Heath (Old) the course begins with a long par 3, which forces one�??s concentration.  Or at least it should: I still managed to end up in the deep greenside bunker with little hope of making a three.  From memory Michael was the only one who didn�??t drop a shot �?? all the best rounds start with bogeys anyway...

Being married to a Kiwi (an Aucklander, no less) Charlie probably knows Nu Zillin better than us, but he humoured the three of us by asking the odd question about what The Lucifers might do in their �??days off�?�.  Again I caught myself.  When asked about my adopted homeland I get probably more excited than I should.  Mike�??s quipped on a number of occasions this year that I should be on the Tourism New Zealand payroll (I should, by the way, John Key, if you�??re reading this).  Truth is I can�??t help it.  I LOVE NEW ZEALAND.  And so, non-Kiwi friends, when you come down to our neck of the woods allow me the pleasure of showing you around.  Because I like doing it.  And I�??m currently unemployed (NB. I still don�??t charge, don�??t worry).

Some good golf and some bad golf was played, but that doesn�??t really give you any insight.  I mean to say it was one of those rounds where you�??re really just walking around bouncing sound waves off each other and there happens to be the odd golf ball struck in between exchanges.  A sign that the conversation was interesting and no one was under par.  

What followed the golf was quite extraordinary.  (At the time) The best shower in England (question mark as to whether it�??s since been overtaken by Royal St Georges).  Then surely the best golf club lunch in England (although New Zealand would push it close).  It was one of those blissful two hour windows of life that regrettably you can never get back �?? but if you could, you�??d relive over and over.  A Crabbie�??s ginger beer in the bar; a 3 or 4 course silver spoon lunch �?? each plateful more mouth watering than the next (although the treacle tart wasn�??t on); then coffee and mints back in the bar.  I won�??t labour the point, but folks it truly was heaven.

We left Charlie�??s company feeling like we�??d just caught up with an old friend.  Then, as soon as Charlie�??s wagon pulled out of the driveway another friend rolled in.  Fitzy!  Bart had left his camera and jacket in Fitzy�??s bag when caddying at New Zealand on Thursday, and the big man had been kind enough to pop round to drop the gear off.  Chins were wagged for a few minutes; resolutions were made to put on a dinner when he�??s back in NZ next year for the World Cup; then �?? Fitzy never being one to miss a photo opportunity (poser!) �?? we, as the Germans say, made a picture.

Epic, epic day.  Thanks Charlie for your hospitality �?? thoroughly enjoyed your company.  And thanks to one Sean Fitzpatrick for popping by with a rather necessary puregolf2010 utensil.  Champions, the both of you.

JP