I have just returned from a long weekend in Spain (near Malaga).

It is an annual golf event with a few friends to battle out to win our own 'Invitational' championship, and is really an excuse for us to get together and chew the fat over good food and wine, interspersed with more than the odd San Miguel.

Golf is a strange game, but presents a good challenge, especially as we are all not regular players. We deal with this lack of practice in our own peculiar way. Beer is the drink of choice on the course, mellowing the continuous battle with the late night Spanish brandy hangover. Fashion faux pars enable us all to blend into our surroundings so as not to be noticed too much by the ever present course marshals buzzing around in their dictatorial buggies. My new 'novelty' (my friends term) club for the trip even disguises the embarrassment of a wayward drive with a complimentary 'ping' sound irrespective of direction (much to my annoyance at times).To summarize our trip is a bit like 'Caddyshack' meets 'Happy Gilmour' with more that a sprinkling of 'Tin Cup'.

Evenings were spent drinking copious amounts of the finest red and rose Rioja, and mainly eating as much meat as we could find, with the odd fish skillfully proffered upon us by an attractive waitress. We were staying in the hills behind Malaga, slightly sheltered from the coastal 'tack', and enjoyed very good food and wine. Despite the beauty of our surroundings the Spanish seem to have an OCD for building sites. A stunning vista is rarely continuous, as just further on there is always another looming crane waiting to interrupt the tranquillity. At times one might be tricked into thinking that there are more cranes than people, especially during the afternoon siesta.

Victory was not mine but all in all it was an amazing short break in 25 degrees of Spanish sunshine. A cold wet Luton was a depressing welcome home from our scheduled flight

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