At 1,450 metres above the valley town of Sierre, beyond the terraced vineyards and past the huge pine trees there lies a golf course. It's hard to imagine that such a mountainous area could accommodate anything other than ski slopes. Some would argue that the Crans course is more suited to wintersports than golf - especially after the recent amendments by Seve. Crans has now been renamed "Royal Crans Golf Club" in the caddie-shack, because all the holes are crowned. There is however a golf tradition on high, it has been played there for almost a century.
The purists should not come here for the challenge of the golf course but more for the enjoyment of being in one of the most beautiful places in the world. A south facing plateau in the heart of the Alps, below lies the Rhone valley, around and above a panorama stretching from the Matterhorn to Mont Blanc. The spectacular vista from most parts of the course should take the mind off the task of hitting the "upturned saucer" greens and the challenge in not so much hitting them but actually getting the ball to stay on them.
Fifteen years ago this tournament marked the end of the season for many players, so there were end-of-year celebrations going on throughout the week. It was the type of course that could be played without intense concentration. With the cut falling at two or three under par, par fours driveable and par fives easily reachable in two, it was a birdie frenzy. Not any more. The cut last week was three over par in ideal weather conditions.
Professional golfers will always find something to complain about, many have voted with their feet and taken a break last week. The grievances, pre-Seve adjustments, were that the course was too easy. Now they whine that it is too difficult. But the show goes on and as usual they have found a way to combat the globular greens, as Eduardo Romero did, and conquer the redesigned course. I don't feel sorry for them. But for the unsuspecting handicapped golfer arriving here for a leisurely stroll around "heaven" then he is in for an unpleasant surprise. For the average golfer the greens are unplayable, his enjoyment of the course has been compromised by the new lay-out.
Romera was at the peak of his game last week. Much of his success can be attributed to Rhamil Hayat. Not the hotel he stayed in last week, but a branch of Yoga which originated in India. The congenial Argentine was in the perfect environment for feeling at home. Altitude - he lives at 800 metres in his native land - pleasant surroundings suited his good-natured attitude. I know he had every reason to look happy, but Romero is one of the few players on the tour who looks content with their lot even on an average day. The Yoga which he practices for half an hour a day has helped him with his concentration - with a 10-shot victory his game hasn't suffered either.
The atmosphere in the ski-resort would ease the mood of most who make the journey up the Rhone valley and continue on the 25-minute hair-pin journey up the side of the mountain. The Agentines, like most of the players and caddies set up enclaves for themselves in Crans. Everyone is in unusually close proximity during the week given the size of the place. Romero and his fellow countrymen have a table reserved all week long at the Raccard restaurant at the top end of town. The beef is not Argentinian but you can cook it as you like it Fondue style.
The Swedes book out the small but conveniently located Miezdor hotel situated right beside the first tee. Jan Blomquist, the now deceased Swedish coach, was the first to strike up a tradition with the hotel over 15 years ago. If you are in the upper echelons of the Swedish camp then you are likely to occupy one of the 20 rooms overlooking the first hole.
If you want to do some golfer-spotting then Chez Cuccu's is the place to dine. The Spanish golfers will linger over lunch here as only Spaniards can. The Swedes will go for an early dinner, in keeping with stringent Scandinavian eating habits. By the time they leave, the tables have been reset for the tardy Spaniards back for more food by nine.
The Italians bring their mothers with them for the Crans trip. Only 250 kilometres from Milan, a well appointed apartment with excellent cooking facilities is too good an opportunity to miss out on. Silvio Grappasoni and Alberto Binaghi tend to stroll into the Memphis bar at about 10.30 or 11 for a digestive glass of Grappa after Mamma's banquet back in the apartment.
Paul "the Singer" Stephens, an English caddie who was a professional singer, will probably wander into the plush environment of The Memphis having left a large group of his colleagues in The George and Dragon pub. He usually takes hold of the microphone at about midnight, when the resident pianist and vocalist is ready to give his voice a break. Paul is a better singer than any of the resident performers. By 12.30 the pianist is glad of the break but embarrassed at the range the amateur chanteur has reached.
