Rancho Santa Fe is about 30 minutes north of San Diego and about 20 minutes south from where we were staying in Carlsbad, but it seemed like another world, this California horse country, with dusty winding roads and sprawling mansions obscured by long private drives and the dense foliage of mature trees.
Like most private golf clubs, RSF has a strict dress code. I wore bright orange shorts that were 3 inches shorter than the requested 18-inch minimum, and they hung higher than the desired 5-inch maximum above the knee, but at least I tucked in my brand new turquoise Pebble Beach sleeveless polo shirt ($9.97 from Costco). Hubby, who had learned the hard way about strict golf club dress codes, dressed appropriately in nice Bermuda shorts and a swank TravisMathew (yes, it's one word) golf polo that he'd bought the day before for $10 from the sale rack at Carlsbad Golf Center.
So we looked the part without having to spend too much. Not that it mattered much, since we had a 12:30pm tee time and the course all to ourselves. It was a privilege indeed to play mid-day, after the morning rush, and with no one in front or behind, we allowed ourselves the luxury to linger over putts, savoring every moment of what turned out to be a 5-hour round.
The first thing I noticed was the adorable cart path markers shaped like the eucalyptus trees that adorn the fairways.
Here's a close-up of the cart path marker:
The course is prettier than pictures can portray. Fairways were trim, and the greens were smooth and true. The course was so well-kept, it was as if it had just opened, and we were the first to play it.
And there was no coarse kikuyu rough here, just civilized Bermuda. Despite that, it was a challenge for me. At 5834 yards from the red tees, the course played longer than I am used to back home.
But no matter how poorly I play, I always enjoy the last few holes of a course the most. I know the end is near, so I relax and eke out as much pleasure as I can. Maybe that sense of fun allowed me to make par on the 17th par 3.
I shot a 108, but I at least I ended on a high note. On the par 5 18th, I hit a decent drive and two good woods to get close to the pin. The pin was front, so I though I'd landed the green, but as I walked up, I noticed that I was just off, in the first cut of rough. I also noticed some noise and looked over to see that the clubhouse terrace was filled with people in cocktail attire. Even with an audience, I managed to chip close to the pin for a tap-in putt, making par.
It was a rather enjoyable day, and afterward we retreated to our garden cottage guest room at the nearby Inn, which is a cozy assemblage of rooms and small cottages with Spanish white stucco exteriors and red tiled roofs. The layout of the property is not quite as sprawling and airy as the website pictures suggest, and our cottage did not have a patio suitable for sitting out on, mainly because it faced the street. The Inn had been recently renovated, though, and it felt like a mix of Old Hollywood and modern comfort. The marble bathroom had a claw foot tub with one of those hand-held faucets that look like old-fashioned telephones. I never take baths, but that sort of thing is pretty to look at once in awhile.
Our package deal including a welcome cocktail, which we enjoyed on the patio at Morada, the Inn's only restaurant. The weather was too nice to stay indoors, despite the beckoning elegance of the tufted banquettes and studded leather club chairs. So we sat outside, where the moldy outdoor sofa cushions prevented us from staying too long and made us decide against having dinner there. Instead, we ordered room service, including kobe beef burgers and strawberry shortcake.
The next morning, we did have breakfast on the patio at Morada. I ordered the Dungeness crab eggs benedict, a delectable stack of potato cakes, crab meat, spinach, and perfectly poached eggs, topped with a delicious blood orange Hollandaise sauce. I couldn't help but eavesdrop on the conversations of nearby tables -- wealthy middle-aged women discussing their portfolios and young real estate brokers talking about hot properties. I felt like I was in a reality show on the Bravo network.
After breakfast, we were tempted to try and play Rancho Sante Fe Golf Club again, but we needed a day to rest. I had developed some painful tendonitis in my right forearm, which could only be soothed by some time at the beach. It wasn't till later in the trip that we developed the stamina to golf back-to-back days. Stay tuned to hear all about it...
No comments:
Post a Comment