France September 2017

Like all true religions, golf has its
holy places. The faithful arrive
at St Andrews from all corners
of the world, and line up for
expensive humiliation at Pinehurst and
Pebble Beach. Those of us who love to
swing a club in France are drawn to the
sunshine and sand of Nouvelle-
Aquitaine, where southern heat tempered
by an Atlantic breeze promise perfect
conditions for a seaside game.
Shadowing the well-trodden
pilgrimage road to the Pyrénées and
Santiago de Compostela, my journey
through France will be punctuated by
bogeys and birdie opportunities, followed
by a cruise on the ferry back from Spain
after the last putt has been missed.
Where to start? Every Channel port
has top-notch golf on its doorstep.
My landfall is Saint-Malo, where the
overnight ferry docks beneath the walls
of the fortress city at 8am on a brilliant
June day. From here it is an easy hour’s
drive along the coast to Pléneuf-Val-André,
the pick of Brittany’s crop of courses.
In a new car that offers every comfort
short of a massage, I arrive at the golf
club with no excuses, for once, instead of
staggering to the tee with joints creaking
like a rusty door hinge.
To complete the hole
with the first ball
that you hit off
the tee is a cause
for rejoicing
Rhythm is an important element of
course design, and Pléneuf starts quietly
with a generous par five – unless you
visit on a competition day, as I did, and
they welcome you with instructions to
begin at the tenth.
This is like starting Verdi’s Requiem
at the Dies Irae. Down the left, a hedge
marks the course boundary. A bank of
dense prickly scrub, more maquis than
rough, intrudes from the right. The green
is out of sight and the fairway narrows
to a ribbon precisely where you would
like your ball to be, for a view of the
flag. Never mind par: to complete this
hole with the first ball that you hit off
the tee is cause for rejoicing.
In happy contrast, one of the most
inspiring moments in French golf comes
The tenth green at Pléneuf-Val-André enjoys
a spectacular position overlooking the Channel
next: a pulpit tee on a spur high above
the beach looks down on a beckoning
sward of flat and hazard-free fairway
behind the sweep of the sands. Unwind,
and launch a shell through the gap
between a lone pine and the picturesque
ruin of an old farmhouse.
So the round goes on, measuring its
doses of menace and generosity. After the
usual ragoût of shots and too many putts,
it is time to head south on the region’s
toll-free autoroutes, cross the River Loire
at Nantes and follow the Vendée coast
as far as Saint-Jean-de-Monts, a familyfriendly
beach resort with a golf course
of great character, created and designed
30 years ago by local enthusiasts.
Not for them, the quiet start. The first
hole curls from left to right around the
only lake on the course. It is one of those
risk-reward moments that call for a deep
breath, commitment – or a splash and
three off the tee. Same story for the
approach to the green, only with
a shorter club in hand, depending on
how brave and successful you were with
the tee shot. Use an old ball would be
my course management advice.
The course then plunges into an oak
forest for half a dozen tight holes before
emerging into rolling dunes for as fair
a stretch of links golf as a Scotsman
could wish for, with salt on the breeze
and a pretty view of the Île d’Yeu.
PHOTOGRAPH: BRITTANY FERRIES
36 FRANCE MAGAZINE www.completefrance.com