In my wilder moments I sometimes tell people that I play golf. They may well conjure up images in their heads of Jack Nicklaus and myself laughing together over the round we just played, but the truth is that actually you'll probably find me crying in a patch of overgrown wilderness with my club wrapped firmly round a sycamore and a score card that looks more like a selection of lottery numbers. Jack Nicklaus, on the other hand, who has never heard of me, is the renowned world champion golfer, and is quite good at it. I bet he's never had an encounter with a sycamore and a patch of thistles.
When he's not hitting birdies and eagles, Jack tends to also excel at designing golf courses, and he's created quite a few. I just read somewhere that he has recently designed nine full courses for Polaris World. They're all laid out nearby each other so that the lucky residents get to play through 162 holes. The article didn't say how many sycamores there are on the course, but I'm pretty sure I'd fine most of them pretty quickly. Still, at least the lakes would be pretty to look at while wondering whether to risk diving in to find my ball. There is certainly something to be said for a lifestyle which involves living in luxurious Spanish properties, constantly bathed in sunshine, with enough golf to last a lifetime.
For some reason I always picture other people in these glorious scenarios. Like my well tanned and absurdly happy neighbours who seem to disappear off to exotic locations and come back with tans that make me look whiter than a sheet of paper. I hate my neighbours. They're lovely people, but it's people like them, not like me, who get to live that kind of paradise lifestyle. Having said which, I had never really given it serious thought, until I discovered that these overseas property arrangements weren't just for the absurdly rich, the fragile ancients or both. In fact, because they've made such a big thing of the golf, it's appealing more and more to people like me who enjoy a good game, or more frequently, a dismal one.
The golf course near me recently got flooded. We have a torrent of rain for a couple of days and the whole place became a pond. It's dried out now, but for weeks the whole place was damp and boggy, and a fairly unpleasant place to play. Golf isn't traditionally a messy sport. If you want to come home caked with mud you either play rugby or take up mud wrestling. Golf is a nice clean sport. Not at my local course it hasn't been - just walking around you get filthy, and if you end up digging up the rough or wandering from sandy bunker to grassy embankments you end up needing to throw your entire outfit in the wash after a round.
So with the weather here so dismal, the idea of having nine brand new golf courses all designed by the world's top golfer, all located together somewhere where it rains sunshine and the only pouring that happens is a glass of Sangria at the nineteenth. I have never considered buying overseas property because of the hassle, but then, thinking about the hassle of coping with the everyday gloom and access to just one or two local golf courses here, upping sticks and taking the plunge just once to benefit from a lifetime of endless golf and warm weather is incredibly tempting. What's even more tempting is that I hear they're now offering free trips over there so that you can experience it for yourself. The idea of a weekend in one of these resorts, playing a free round of golf on one of Jack Nicklaus' designs is something that makes me wonder whether I could become the neighbour that gets the envied looks.
One of the things that has surprised me most recently is the price of these overseas property. I always imagine that they were really expensive, especially when you consider the added bonuses like the scenery, the quiet, the views, the weather and the nine golf courses. Yet when I saw the prices advertised, I could afford to sell my house here and buy a really classy villa over there with its own pool, views and more golf than I could shake a stick at.
I know that the idea of moving there sounds too much like hassle, but then I keep looking out of my window at the gloom and grey, and think about how I get up in the morning. You know, I don't even bother to open the curtains sometimes. There's nothing much to look at except grey skies, gloomy faces and the rain dripping off the gutters onto the muddy patch that I laughably refer to as my garden. But I have an image in my head of how I would feel waking up in my own villa in Spain. From one window I would be able to look across at the ponderous mountains as they yawn their way towards the purple haze of the horizon, and in the other direction I would watch the yachts skip across the cheerful blue ocean. Apparently the sea is blue over there - imagine that, clear blue water on your doorstep that doesn't mean you've been flooded.
I'm certainly very tempted to consider the idea of a free trip - after all, I have nothing to lose. I may even find that the more clement weather improves my golfing game. Perhaps I may even meet old Jack and challenge him to a round. The only thing that puts me off is the hassle, but then, it's only once, and the satisfaction of having made it will be more than worth it. The adverts are certainly targeting this country a great deal, and it sounds as though they know what they're doing. Like many people, I work from home which means that relocating means little more than moving all my gear. Except for my winter clothes; I won't need them any more of course!
