Golfer, is not a term you would use to describe me, or what I do. You could really only call me a golfer if you could also call me unopinionated, non-competitive or sedentary. Well, for those who know me, know you can’t call me those things, so, yes, it is safe to say I am not a golfer. The strange thing is, I will more than likely take you up on an offer of golf. The idea of hitting that little white (or, ooh, I found a lovely pearly pink one the last time I played) pimply ball as hard as I can, and then chase it down is somehow appealing to me.
Golfer, could possibly be used as a term to describe my habit of finding challenges. I have played golf twice in the last month. I think the time before that was about 3 years ago! Both have had their challenges, but for very different reasons.
I first played golf with a friend here in Ethiopia. The biggest challenge for this game – aside from my lack of skill in golf, the caddy standing right where my swing would be, and avoiding the sprinklers in the middle of the course – was the very large and deep cracks in the bare earth. I was surprised not to have lost my foot, let alone any balls down these holes, because there was no getting them back. Yes, Addis’ ground is predominantly clay.
Addis Ababa Golf
The second experience I had provided very different challenges. I played golf with Chris on an Island in the Indian Ocean, where that was often our view. It was lush and green and no gaping holes, but… I don’t recall my feet ever being parallel or horizontal for that matter. We played uphill and down, and around every kind of water hazard imaginable, including the ocean. I had to go wading for balls, just so we could complete the round!
Seychelles Golf. [the hole is about 60m below me!]
Erin.
