To arrive in Knokke-la-Zoute on the balmy Flanders coast in late September and find a golf course was a surprise. Belgium is not normally associated with golf, though this area is an exception. The course which staged the Belgian Open of last week celebrated its 100th anniversary last year, and the Ostende links just up the coast is also approaching its centenary. So, strange as it seems to those not familiar with sport in this country, golf goes back a long way. I found myself last Tuesday morning wandering through town hoping to wind my way to the course. To the outsider, this town of Knokke can seem like a maze. The urbanist responsible for developing the town did not believe in straight lines.

After half an hour I stumbled upon the "Caddie's Path", a sandy trail that cuts through the course. I relaxed on the tranquil trail confident that a path with such a name was the appropriate one for me, a professional load lugger. I soon realised that this was not where the poor folks lived. I was surrounded by residences with garages that would put most houses to architectural shame.

Joseph Stubben, who designed the town, was an adviser to Leopold II. He favoured coherent sites with a balance between the size of the site and the proportion of the building. The regulations prescribe that the villa must be surrounded by a garden, and the tiled or thatched roofs be at least 45 degrees.

Are you getting a picture of the type of abodes which engulfed me? Most of them look spacious enough to house a small hotel, if not even a big one. There is nothing modest about here, although the Normandy, Flemish or cottage styles are very tasteful. My journey must have been similar to the one the caddies here of old used to take to the Knokke-la-Zoute links. They used to take the tram from Brugge, Westkapelle and Knokke, and then walk along this same route to the clubhouse, marvelling as I was at the splendour of the surroundings. The children back in the early 1900s waited in the dunes to receive the players' golf bags. Your modern cad awaits his master's arrival in the plush environs of the clubhouse.

Back then, Lois Degraeve earned a few extra centimes for "planting" the flags in the morning and removing them in the evening. The pro, Charles Warren, was responsible for organising the caddies' tasks and pay. Pietje Stocks was the caddie master. The tariff was 50 centimes a round, while the drinks money - which was not compulsory - was 20 to 30 centimes. I wonder how this compares with today's tour caddie remuneration, where drinks money is mandatory?

The first Belgian players were Dr Lamoral and Mr Meulemeester. Dr Lamoral was the only person in possession of a bicycle in town, a luxury at the time. He was renowned as a miser, and upon his arrival all the caddies would take flight in hope of a more lucrative bag than the doctor's.

THE CLUB had many caddies, as many as 120 at any given time. Many decided to become professionals, greenkeepers or caddie masters. The inhabitants of the town of Knokke, the workers, were not meant to play golf.

Maurice Lippens, the town's founder, came across some caddies playing one evening when he was out walking the course. It hadn't occurred to him that they would be interested in playing. So he set up the Knokke Town Club. The fee was 75 francs. Today there are over 200 members. Eight are greenkeepers and 15 are employed by the club. You have to have lived in the town for over 20 years to be eligible for membership. I came across an old man who had been following our group for a few holes last Friday. After the round, he came over and struck up a conversation. He informed us that he has been a member at Royal Zoute for over 60 years. This got me thinking about the second World War and the fact that the Germans had occupied this territory. So I asked what it was like to live under Nazi rule.

I was shuddering in anticipation of tales of torture and atrocities and terrible human suffering. The man cast his mind back and visibly trembled with indignation. I thought perhaps that I had awakened some horrible memories. He stepped back, shook his head and replied: "Oh yees, eet was terribl, those damn Germans reduced the course to nine holes, can you believe it? They shut down the front nine!"

Obviously the members of such an exclusive facility as this take their golf seriously and have a different concept of hardship than most of us. As the old man shuffled away towards the members' clubhouse at the end of the Caddies Path, I realised that I was truly in a special area of Belgium where golf is very much part of the culture.