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It's 40 degrees. I reckon we should walk in."
Never have a golf club host's words been more welcome than those at Royal Adelaide.
After four holes of the most blistering heat we had ever experienced on any course, I could barely put one foot in front of another.
Fortunately, after 45 minutes of iced drinks and genial chat, the temperature had dropped, and we could complete another 10 holes.
And, happily, this was only the practice round before Mrs W and I were due to take on the host and his pal in a gentle version of The Ashes.
We were delighted to return because Royal Adelaide Golf Club is a special place and deserves full appreciation.
The club dates back to the 19th century, and its course was remoulded by the legendary designer Alister MacKenzie.
Our game was the climax to a drive across the glorious South Australian coast from Melbourne and fulfilled every expectation.
The club prides itself on its welcome, and that was obvious from the first interaction in the pro shop, where Mrs W helped herself to an early Christmas present of a bag and shirt.
The clubhouse has some super memorabilia of its impressive past. It overlooks the 18th, first tee, practice ground and the iconic railway line that famously runs through the course.
So, after some brekkie, we headed for the first tee and our match versus two Aussie members.
The sledging didn't take long as our host pointed out Mrs W's putting weakness the previous day.
The effect on her was startling - she buckled down and determinedly nailed consecutive 15-footers on the opening three holes.
However, our host's pal was in irrepressible form and even our decent scoring was no match for his birdie rush.
His fine form began with a stunning approach to the first hole - a bending par-four defended by rough down the right and bunkers straight from the tee and in front of the green.
The second is the most trumpeted of Royal Adelaide's holes because the drive from the tips is over the railway line.
The trains emerge regularly; special rules are associated with looking for balls near the tracks.
Fortunately, we played well away from them on this strategic par five, attacking down the right of a hole punctuated by traps.
The two-tier green is typical of Royal Adelaide - pacy and slippery. Mrs W's par was enough for a rare English win.
It was followed by a lovely blind, short par-four with trees on the left and a cavernous waste area and more trees on the right.
The green, which can be reached by big hitters, has the narrowest of entrances next to a perilous stretch of deep rough.
There are many big carries, beginning with the dogleg fourth through an avenue of trees over a hill.
The hole flattens out, but run-offs defend the green, which can divert overhit balls into scrub beyond the target.
Royal Adelaide has many doglegs, and the fifth prompted a moment of hilarity at my expense.
I cracked a drive in the middle of a fairway, framed by dusty rough on the left and bunker on the right.
I needed a 20-footer to win the hole and was in full fist-pump mode only to see the ball roll around the cup and away. How the Aussies loved that.
They were laughing even more on the tricky sixth - a par-four which runs parallel to extensive work being done by Renaissance Golf to upgrade the eighth and ninth holes.
It is a par-five for women and Mrs W was in pole position to see our opponent chip in from a greenside bunker for a birdie.
The seventh is a corking par-three over wasteland and then a semi-circle of bunkers around a bowl green. It comes before a super halfway house with its honesty bar and, most importantly, an ice dispenser.
Golf was playable on this day, but temperatures were still nearing 35C, and I was in danger of wilting again without regular refreshment.
I digress – with the eighth out of commission, an extra hole would be played after the 17th.
Meanwhile, we had a walk to a tee midway down the ninth, which had been turned into a par-three while major works were underway to improve the original par five and create a permanent additional par-three.
The 11th is one of Royal Adelaide's classics. A short, curving par-four with a blind fade needed off the tee before an approach over savage wasteland to a green framed by bunkers and bushes.
Twice, I had been well-placed, and twice, I had licked my lips in anticipation of glory only to find sand with my approach.
Over two days, I played the brutal par-three 12th three times and was thrilled to have nailed two pars and a bogey.
It is over 200 yards with a perilous large bunker, defending a sizeable, undulating green. The bail-out is definitely on the right.
The 14th has been hailed as one of the finest holes in Australian golf, and it is easy to see why.
From the tee, the eye is drawn to the substantial bunkers directly in front and tall trees to the right.
Thus, the shot is to what seems a mere slither of land to the left.
If mission one is accomplished, the player faces a narrow approach down over devilish sandy scrub, then up a sharp incline to a perched green.
After that, we needed to win every hole to keep The Ashes alive, and there was a brief flicker of hope on the 15th, a sublime, shortish par-five.
Another demanding drive through an avenue of trees was achieved before the hole turned 90 degrees left, past a massive bunker.
More traps lurk around a sloping green, and, for once, the Aussies succumbed while I lagged my birdie and completed a pleasing par.
It offered a mere stay of execution because neither Mrs W nor I could find the green on the tricky par-three 16th, surrounded by fall-offs and bunkers, and watched forlornly as our opponents took the honours.
Inevitably, we were better with the pressure off and took on Royal Adelaide's problem child, 17th, with gusto.
The par-five has undergone temporary change with additional bunkering recently as a stop-gap before more permanent alterations.
Apparently, it's a Marmite hole with heavy bunkering down the right, forcing the player out left before more deep sand traps around the green.
I didn't think it was nearly as out of place as others, but I bowed to their local knowledge.
Meanwhile, they might have doffed their caps to me on hole 17a, which had been added to the scorecard because of the work on the eighth.
At a mere 115 yards, this par-three offended the locals, who believed it was too much of an afterthought.
I am happy to offer the alternative view after striking a wedge to 12 feet and setting the ball towards the cup, holding my celebratory fist-pump until I was absolutely sure the birdie had been secured.
We observed the 18th from the clubhouse and drove through it to the car park. and I was looking forward to emulating some of the fine finishes we had witnessed.
Consequently, I was thrilled when I drilled the ball onto the green from an unpromising position in the rough beside a bunker.
However, the intoxicating thought of finishing with a double birdie was soon doused when I slammed the ball six feet past the cup and missed the return.
Nevertheless, the memory of our day was not soured in the slightest.
This had been a special day at a fantastic club and course.
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