Trevor's dad offered to take Cally for a few days and let us enjoy PV on our own. WHOOOP! We felt like a couple of kids in a candy store.
"What do you want to do first?" I asked redundantly. Trevor is a golf fanatic and since we moved to Manitoba and golf became affordable, getting him off of the green is about as easy as trying to convince a flamer that spandex doesn't look good on everyone.
We walked over to the Marina golf club to peruse the grounds and check the rates for a round of 18. I very nearly fell over when I saw the fees: $129 for the green fees, $50 for the clubs and another $50 for the honor of sitting in the golf cart to watch Trevor play. We decided to come back again when the Mexican sun was at it's peak the twilight rates were in effect ...yes when you love something you can pretty much justify any price and so, twilight fees paid in full- one round of golf came to around $200. I shudder to think of how long a family in PV could survive on $2000 pesos. A lot longer than the 3 1/2 hours it took to finish the course.
Golf Digest gave the course 3 1/2 stars back in 2008. I'm not sure how good that means the course is but to me, it was swanky enough. Trevor practically orgasmed as he hit the ball off of the first tee and he couldn't wipe the silly grin from his face for the next 17 holes. There were certain hazards, beyond sand and water that were a bit of a shock. The first were the Iguana's on the road. They had no fear of the cart and took their Mexican time getting out of the way.
The second were the crocodiles.The signs were posted everywhere, "do not approach the crocodiles." Well, I certainly hadn't planned on walking up to one of the scaly lizards and giving it a pet but before we actually saw one I wondered how much truth there was to the stories I'd heard of golfers loosing arms or legs. I figured, like most stories, they were an exaggeration and the biggest croc we'd see, if we even saw one at all, would be a baby- maybe 4 feet long. Nothing to squeal about.
The guys ahead of us were also from MB and we'd been following their game pretty closely. The last of their party was just teeing off when I saw the first big croc, "OH JESUS!" I exclaimed, white knuckling the sides of the cart- my fight or flight reflex sending adrenaline coursing through my veins.
"Kim, shut up," Trevor whispered, reminding me that you aren't supposed to make noise when someone else is swinging a club. But I couldn't help it. This thing was a monster, and what's more, it was only a few feet from the green where Trevor's ball lay waiting.
I filmed his short game, thinking "well, if he gets bitten the only thing I'll be able to do about it is document evidence. Maybe we'll get a settlement of some sort..." It was a nerve wracking putt on the green, for me at least. Trevor didn't seem too bothered and the croc didn't move at all.
We saw several more of the hideous beasts lining the water hazards but both Trevor and I decided that any ball that landed in the water was going to be considered lost. For the first game of the season, Trevor's score was actually pretty good. Of course, now he's got the itch and is already fantasizing about all the golf he's going to play in the summertime. I might as well prepare myself for my summer title of "golf widow' right now- it's impossible to ignore that crazy gleam in his eyes.
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