Raquel (left), Judith, Leslie and Rachel ready to do battle at the Lions Mini Golf in Victoria Esplanade. Note the purple ball - my favourite colour. Photo / Kind Man in Front of Us
Raquel (left), Judith, Leslie and Rachel ready to do battle at the Lions Mini Golf in Victoria Esplanade. Note the purple ball - my favourite colour. Photo / Kind Man in Front of Us
I have no idea how Raquel did it. My ball was teetering on the edge of the hole but wasn't going to drop. Nek minnit, she blew on it from some distance and in it went.
Yet another well-above-par score for me, but what a moment. And I made sureeveryone around knew it! We loudly and proudly celebrated our small wins. Isn't that what life is all about?
The Lions Mini Golf at the Esplanade opened at the beginning of the month. Last Sunday, I gathered four very different women for our first go around the holes.
Mini golf was a staple of my childhood holidays. I'd forgotten how many decisions are required, or perhaps as a child I didn't realise. I'd like to think the only thing I insisted on on Sunday was having the purple ball.
There's which hole will we start at (we were encouraged by the volunteers not to start at one as it was so busy), who will go first, whether we keep the same playing order going around, which hole will we go to next, who will keep score. Phew! Oh, and what to do with your bag. Whatever you do, keep it shut so a pen and bank card don't spill out on the green like mine did.
I missed Mum on Sunday. It was always her job to look after our belongings, keep score, and referee any disputes. And pay, of course.
Mini golf is a quick and fun way to get to know who is the leader, mathematician, administrator, sportsperson, and social worker in any group. I was praised for my encouraging ooh and aahs but was distracted when Rachel got a hole-in-one, the only one in our group.
Mini golf can also add to your vocabulary. I hadn't heard doodacky for donkey's years but it was as good a term as any to describe where we wanted our balls to end up. I'm sure at some holes a little man was raising his arm and throwing my ball out. Then there was "give it some wellie". Those non-English born would probably say you need some more Weet-Bix.
Whoever came up with the pars was surely having a laugh (or is called Lydia Ko or Ryan Fox). I made par a grand total of four times and my best hole was number 5, where I got a birdie.
The course is what I can only describe as natural, with rocks, wood and concrete as the obstacles. There are no rainbow bridges, fairy houses, or clocktowers but I did like the rough. It's great the course is built around existing trees providing instant shade and that the kiosk selling icecreams and drinks is so close to the playground and barbecue area.
It would have been good for the hole and par signs to have a ridge where you could place the scoring card and pencil while you played.
The donuts, as we started calling the raised holes, won't add to your calorie intake for the day but take away from it as the frustration gobbles up nutrients. I asked a man behind us for a tip to master the donuts. He said to get your ball close to the bottom of the donut first before trying for the hole. Sound advice.
The 19th hole was a welcome stop after all the celebrating and donut mastering. Photo / Judith Lacy
Depending on your liver, the 19th hole is the best thing ever or the lamest 19th invented. Free water suits me fine, but after imbibing I made my first and only air shot in front of a crowd on the 18th.
For the record, Rachel won but Leslie won the hard back nine and I won the easy first nine. Raquel won the spirit award for adding up all the scores and calling herself Lucky for coming fourth.
This is a Public Interest Journalism funded role through NZ On Air
