The trip to Suffolk

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The final picture on this page shows Ladies' Captain Topsy Arlidge with a list. That tells you.She must have had dozens of lists. Because the trip she organised was stuffed with lovely details and careful planning, and it all worked a treat. Take the prizes. For us entering the Suffolk territory of Minsmere birdwatchers and Aldeburgh festival-goers, she chose related prizes — soft toy waders and ducks, RSPB pocket guides ("that duck's a pochard"), and Benjamin Britten CDs. From the initial how-to-get-there details to the bluebell walk and tea party at the end, she spoiled us rotten.

Thorpeness, where we stayed and played two rounds, is one of those places which is utterly itself. The seaside as nostalgia remembers it. The Thorpeness Hotel sits prettily between the golf course and the Meare with its islands of nesting swans, and was as comfortable, friendly and palate-pleasing as one could wish (but with so many ways into the hotel, you never knew where you were). The course itself had a lot of the yellow stuff ("oh no, that's not all gorse is it"), but wasn't punitive enough to spoil our fun.

At the first night's dinner, the trip's lively tone was set. We shared the dining room with gentlemen golfers from Cambridge, who were a little ahead of us on the wine front, and cheered Topsy's every word as she announced prizes. (It seemed, too, that they might even queue up to give a kiss to our birthday girl, Beryl B.) Anyone who thought 70 was a good haul of Stableford points (best two of three) was soon disabused, when the winners came with 82 (and they all loved their ducks). The three individual prizes were imaginatively decided as well — most points on the fewest holes, most holes with 3 points scored, and most points on the par threes. Such jolly categories.

Going out the next day at Aldeburgh was "the weirdest golf I've ever played" according to Helen Bagan. No rain for ages, so the course was rock hard, plus the wind was ferocious, and the greens were glassy fast, set for a championship (and to amuse locals watching Hampstead ladies trying to cope). On the par five 11th, Helen was on the green in two (getting a helpful bounce from a tractor) but on those greens no chance of an eagle. Even a par "seemed bloody marvellous". The wind took her right through the green for two on another par five, but then she needed five to get down. Oh, for heavens sake. No wonder Louise Morse plays so well at Hampstead, getting tough training by being a member there.

Coping with the course wasn't exactly hilarious, except when one player in the foursomes hit a tee shot into the nettles. But oh hooray, her partner was left-handed (the only left-hander playing), and she could hit out of the nettles by standing on the fairway. Except she didn't manage it. The ball stayed put, only playable by a righthander getting stung to death. Over to her partner, who had that morning bought cut-off trousers. Never fear. She could struggle into her overtrousers, tiptoe into the nettles and hope for the best. Phew, ball now back on fairway. Waterproof trousers just about struggled out of again, when the ball was hit into yet more prickly stuff. 

On the last day, the weather threatened to turn against us (eg rain as well as wind). In fact heavy rain divided the field, some teams playing only nine holes. Alison Reed, Helen Cohen and Louise Morse were clearly not deterred, and in fact scored a fantastic 86 points. Susie Gregson (with Topsy in top picture) played a storm too, as she so often does these days, making her our individual Stableford champion. 

Pictures speak louder, and all that, so just look at the group photograph to pick up the mood of the ladies who went to Suffolk. It was the happiest of outings, where the default mode was laughter, especially when Topsy gave out the booby prize for "the worst Stableford score I've ever seen in my life". Topsy must have been chuffed to see how many ladies picked up the hotel's leaflet about future golf offers — they were clearly thinking ahead and already wondering about making a return trip.