Q Suite for a Queen

 

Golfing in the Desert Outside of Djibouti

Katherine and I headed due South to just above the Djibouti/Somalia border to the Golf Club de la Douda. We timed our arrival so that the heat of the day would be behind us. I decked out in a hat, long sleeves, and light sailing pants that I had to roll up because of the humidity. Katherine wore a t-shirt and long pants. 

A friend of hers from work joined us. After Cam's first swing, I apologized on every hole for having to look for my ball. He was a natural, and this was his second time playing. 

Not one blade of grass anywhere. The fairways and driving range were just sand. Hard-packed red sand in some places and somewhat looser sand in others. There was never a chance of losing your ball because it sat up like a lighthouse and could be seen for a long distance.

There were three of us, two caddies, two bags of golf clubs, two pieces of artificial turf, and nine full holes of golf. 

Driving Range

There were tee boxes, both men's and ladies. Each was set up a few feet off the ground and covered with artificial turf. The caddie would fill the one small hole where you might place your tee with sand.   The more sand, the better the tee stayed upright in the hole. 

After teeing off, the caddie would find my ball, place it on top of the 1ft by 2 ft rectangular piece of turf. He would choose my club and point in the direction of the flag. Many holes, I was unable to see the flag until I was chip-close because of the scrawny vegetation. Not to say that the course was built with vegetation in the middle of the fairways, but to point out that I was not always in the middle of the fairway. 

My caddie was the skinniest young man I have seen in a while. His arms were chopsticks, and he pulled his belt tightly to hold up his pants. He was cheerful and helpful, even when I hooked the ball into a ravine. 

Yes, there were ravines with scrawny toothpick bushes strewn about. There were also miniature Baobao-looking trees that littered the course. "Hit over the tree," my caddie would mime. "Over the tree?" I would ask for confirmation? "Yes," he would point to the sky and over the the tree. Ohhhkaaaaay. 

Katherine Practicing

I had to putt the ball with a whack to get it to go straight, or the grain would push it off course. It was a shot in the dark, no matter how close I was to the flag. 

It was dusk, and we were about to begin the ninth hole. I squared to the ball and was about to swing when my caddy jumped up and waved "no, no!" He pointed behind me to the left. A caravan of 4 camels and their owner and family was about to cross in front of me. I stepped back to allow them to cross the course. Our caddy said, "Somalia, they go to Somalia. We had not noticed, but they were on a trail pounded hard by many caravans trekking through the desert to destinations afar. It was so peaceful and quite beautiful on the golf course with the sun waning that I had forgotten entirely that Somalia was but a stone's throw away from me. 

No need to keep score; Cam blew us away. As Katherine mentioned, every one of our shots landed in a sand trap. 

Camels surrounded our car as we exited the parking lot. I was very excited, but they wanted nothing to do with me. 

Katherine and I stopped for burgers. She paid the young boy to watch our vehicle. "Better to pay than to worry what they might do to your car if you don't." Sounds reasonable.

(Happy Birthday, Barbara G.  You're not getting older, you're getting better!)

Tomorrow, Wednesday, January 12.  

Tomorrow, Tuesday, Katherine has a forced Covid Day off. Covid is just hitting the city, but it is spreading quickly, similar to the US. Staggering a day off is a very hopeful trial that if one person brings Covid to the office, not everyone will get it. 

We are both set for 9:00 AM massages! Thanks, Jane Scott, for my Christmas present! It is perfect!

Tuesday night, I am treating eight of Katherine's friends and co-workers to dinner at the French Restaurant in the city. I'll return to blogging on Wednesday. 

Feel free to leave comments or ask questions