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15/09/2026

The Viaduct. Par 3, 135 yards.

The old track bed has been laid to turf from parapet to parapet, so the hole is played down the deck of the thing itself.

The arches march away beneath you the whole length of the shot. Through the gaps you can see the valley floor, a stream, and the fields either side of it.

The green is on the deck at the far end, one bunker cut into the turf, parapet running past it on both sides.

And the number is the least interesting part. A 135 yard shot to a green with a bunker short is something you would hit without thinking anywhere else. What changes here is that the target is the same width as the thing you are standing on.

There is no miss that stays on the golf course. Left and right are both a parapet and then a long way down.

So people steer it, and steering is what actually causes the miss. Pick the middle of the deck rather than the flag, take enough club to reach the back of the green, and swing at it properly. Narrow targets get hit by people who swing freely at the middle of them.

14/09/2026

The Shallows. Par 3, 155 yards.

155 yards over the clearest water you will ever hit a golf ball across.

The green is on a low spit of white sand reaching out into the bay, one bunker at the front, a collar of marram grass round the edge. The tee is on the shore with a channel of pale jade water in between.

Behind it the sea goes deep blue and a wall of black granite comes straight out of it. Sawtooth peaks with snow still lying in the gullies in the middle of summer.

That contrast is the whole hole. The water looks tropical and the mountains absolutely do not, and standing on the tee your eye cannot make the two of them agree. This is the Arctic. In high summer the sun does not set at all.

The shot is a mid iron and the number is honest. But the ground is flat and open and the wind comes off the sea with nothing to break it, so the club you need is rarely the club the yardage suggests.

Take the extra one. Short is water, and the beach in front will not hold a ball that lands running.

13/09/2026

The Falls Edge. Par 3, 145 yards.

A river runs over this clifftop and goes straight off the edge in one clean white fall into the Atlantic.

The hole is played across the gap where it goes over. Tee one side, green the other, the waterfall directly between them.

The turf up here is the emerald you only get this far north, laid over black basalt that drops sheer to the water beneath both the tee and the green.

Getting to the green takes a quarter of an hour. The path runs back along the clifftop, crosses the river well upstream on a stone slab bridge, and comes back down the far side. Three seconds to play the shot, fifteen minutes to walk to it.

The carry is not the problem. The gap is far narrower than the yardage. The problem is that wind hitting a cliff has nowhere to go but up, so it rises over the lip exactly where your ball wants to be, holds the shot up and drops it short.

Take more club than the number, keep it low if you can, and aim at the middle. Anything leaked toward the fall is gone and there is no drop zone on the far side.

12/09/2026

The Interchange. Par 3, 155 yards.

Straight into the middle of a road junction. The green sits on the teardrop of land inside the loop ramp, the piece of ground every junction has and nobody has ever known what to do with. Somebody mowed it, cut one bunker into it and put a flag in the middle. There is one way in and one way out, and it is a concrete underpass beneath the ramp, so you play in, hole out and walk back through the same tunnel. Traffic runs round the outside of the putting surface the entire time you are on it, close enough to hear every car twice. None of it is in play, and that is the strange part. No water, no gorse, nothing to lose a ball in, and a comfortable mid iron to a green with room on it. Everything anybody throws away out here gets thrown away because they were listening to the road instead of picking a club. Commit to the number, put your eyes on the flag rather than the thing bothering you, and make your normal swing.

11/09/2026

The Precipice. Par 3, 98 yards.

Ninety eight yards, and the number is a joke.

The green is a shelf cut into the canyon wall. One bunker at the front, a dry stone parapet along the outer side, and past that parapet the rock goes straight down in one clean face with no ledge to break it.

At the bottom of that wall there is another green. Another fairway, another flag, same course. One hole sitting directly above another with nothing but air in between.

The cart path is the part nobody mentions twice. It runs in along the very lip, level with the green, so you drive with the drop a wheel’s width from your elbow the whole way. There is a buggy wedged against the parapet in this one that tells you how much room for error there is.

The shot is a wedge. That is all it is. And the miss that costs you is not the one you are worrying about, because nobody hits it over the back here. They quit on it, leave the face open and lose it right, because the eye keeps going to the edge instead of the flag.

Pick the number, look at the middle of the green, and swing at it like you would off a mat.

10/09/2026

The Neighbours. Par 3, 138 yards.

Every one of those yards is over water. The hole is a canal, a long rectangle of it with a stone kerb down each side, running from a few paces in front of the tee all the way to the front edge of the green. There is no fairway, no apron and nowhere to bail out, because both sides run out within a few paces into somebody’s garden. Two rows of houses face each other across it, close enough to see the furniture on the terraces, and the glass on both sides points straight down the line of the shot. It is a wedge for most people, and it is the sort of wedge where the number stops mattering and the surroundings take over. Short is wet. Long is wet, because the green sits square at the end of the water with nothing behind it. Left and right are somebody’s morning coffee. Take enough club to reach the middle rather than exactly the flag, aim at the fat of the green, and make an ordinary swing.

09/09/2026

The Back Edge. Par 3, 100 yards.

Straight up. The green is four hundred feet above the tee on top of a limestone wall, and from down here all you can see of it is the flag against the sky. Anything short of the shelf comes back down the face and finishes near your feet. That is the shot, and it is not the hard part. The hard part is behind the green, because the clifftop is a strip barely wider than the putting surface and the far side falls away into the sea. A drop in front of you, a bigger drop behind. Everything on this hole punishes the ball that carries a yard too far. Take enough club, because uphill always plays longer than the number, but land it on the front half and let it release toward the middle. On a hole where long is dead there is no such thing as a good long miss.

08/09/2026

The Dam. Par 3, 145 yards.

You are standing on the service road along the crest of seven hundred feet of curved concrete. On your left the wall falls away in one smooth sweep to a tailrace where the turbine outlets are throwing out white water you can hear but only just see. On your right the reservoir sits almost level with your feet, dead flat and very deep. The green is on a grassy promontory pushed out into the water at the far end of the crest, one bunker short left, and the cart path curls round the back of it and carries on to the next tee. Miss it left and your ball is somewhere on the face of the dam. Miss it right and it is in a hundred feet of water. The shot is a wedge, and that is the problem, because a wedge gives you time to think. Take one more club than the wind suggests, aim at the middle rather than the flag, and hit it before you look down again.

07/09/2026

The Skywalk. Par 3, 198 yards.

The tee is a horseshoe of laminated glass bolted out from the canyon rim on steel ribs, hanging over nothing. There is a strip of mown turf down the middle to hit from, and on both sides of your stance the canyon floor is twelve hundred feet straight down, visible through the floor, with the river a thin green thread at the bottom of it. The green is on top of a butte out in the middle of the canyon, one bunker short left, sheer rock on every side, so there is no front edge to run one up and nowhere to bail out. What makes it hard has almost nothing to do with 198 yards. Your balance takes its cues from what is underneath you, and when it reports a void your body shortens the swing and speeds it up without asking. That is why people come up short on holes like this far more often than they go long. Take the club the number calls for, put your eyes on the flag instead of the floor, and make the same swing you would make off a mat at the range. The glass is rated for it. You are the only variable.

05/09/2026

192 yards along the top of a cliff, and nobody who stands on this tee is thinking about the shot.

The hole is straightforward. A long iron along the headland to a green on a grassy promontory, one bunker, mown grass running out to where the ground stops. What makes it absurd is happening underneath you. When the swell arrives, a single wall of dark green water rears up out of the bay and stands two thirds of the way up a cliff that is already high enough to make you careful near the edge.

There is a stone fort with a lighthouse out on the point. The wave behind it makes it look like something off a model railway. That is how you know what you are looking at.

The wind here is offshore and it holds the wave up, tearing long white plumes backwards off the crest before it breaks, and the water in front is already white from the one before.

Take one more club than the number, because the wind holding those waves up is in your face, and aim at the middle. Nothing about this hole rewards ambition.

Nazare, hole 16. Par 3, 192 yards.

Address

Grange Lane
Maidenhead
SL6 9RP

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