I´M AT: Hospedaje Las Brujas (The Witches), central La Paz, $4, right on top of the Witches´Market, so even before breakfast I´ve had a taste of llama foetus.
A blur of motion as the golf ball soars over a parched lunar landscape, before trickling meekly into a grey, pitted canyon. Playing at the World´s Highest Golf Course was some gig.
Not cheap though. After security had radioed our taxi through, after verifying our nationalities (apparently a lot of Brits play at this course, so we were considered fair game), we stumped up a cool $60 each in green fees and club hire and limped nervously to the first tee. Clubhouse bearing down, all Pringle and Fred Perry, all eyes on the denim gringos, and fear, fear...but after the first drive went OK for both me and Mark, we were off, sweating only from the heat. I eventually took 12 shots on the first hole.
At one point we hunkered down with the caddies to avoid the errant shot from the clay pigeon shoot on the other side of the canyon, as it smacked into the nearby trees.
This was the first time I´ve played on a professional course, the first time with a caddy - a 25 year old bloke called Paulinho - and it was great. And only 67 over par. And I almost, almost beat Mark, who´s had lessons and goes on golfing trips and everything.
Those balmy afternoons at Sparrow´s Den Pitch-and-Putt weren´t entirely wasted.
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