A beautiful morning

I sat down at a table on the right hand side of the dining room. My initial venture to the self service bar produced a slice of melon a cup of coffee and round of toast. My eye was caught by a young spanish waiteress whose light brown hair was tied back in a pony tail. Her olive skin and dark hazel eyes held me in fascination. she was, of course, totally oblivious to my glances and yet for some reason I didn't want to voice my thoughts to my friend, who at that moment lifted himself slightly off his seat and raised a hand to beckon the others who had just entered the dining room. she continued her work, lithe and beautiful her pony tail swingly slightly with the occassional swish enforcing the attraction. Pleasantries and conversation commenced around the table that soon merged into smiles and laughter as recollections of the previous night were recalled and I knew a spell was broken as thoughts turned to the day ahead. A second visit to self service, this time to the hot food bar resulted in two slices of bacon, an egg, some more toast and another coffee but most was left untoutch so after fifteen minutes we headed to the car and Rio Real.

The ride to Rio Real didn't take too long. The turn off the main road seem wrong but soon it opened out to reveal a most pleasant club house. As we were early for tee off we proceeded downstairs to the restaurant for coffee but to our surprise and that of some other visitors coffee would not be served unless food was ordered. The huge room we stood in had the biggest fireplace I had ever seen and photos just had to be taken, it struck me how spectacular that room must be on a cold winters evening with soft light and a blazing fire in the hearth. Paying our fees and armed with several bottles of water and keys for buggies we set off to find the practice greens, which sat beside the first tee box, behind the starters office.

Rio is another parkland course and once again I could find little to fault it. I suppose if the truth be told there are three courses I truly enjoy on del sol, La Cala, Guadalhorce and Santana with others like El Chaparral, Mijas, Lauro and now Santa Clara and Rio Real among others also providing great playing pleasure. (Not wishing to offend but in September I stayed at villamartin, Costa Blanca and played the same along with La Finca and Campoamor and I just could not get that same feeling)

At the ninteenth bets were paid, I was out of pocket again. A question to those in the know, why is it when someone mentions out of bounds, water or trees does my ball end up exactly in the thick of it, then when the subject of money is raised I might as well have stayed in the clubhouse. Not you understand that it is for large amounts or indeed that I'm afraid of loosing a few euros but maybe its a fear of letting my partner down or perhaps its the competitive spirit in me where the thought of defeat is compounded by the act of also having to pay for it.

Once again a cold beer and light bite lifted my spirits no end. As I looked out from the balacony my only thoughts were of contentment and gratitude that life had once again provided an oasis where camaraderie and craic filled my glass.