Sunday morning arrives too early and the Muffins should be in church but instead drive to Southerdown GC, a cliff-top course with panoramic views and lots of gorse. Distant church bells remind the Muffins of their obligations.

The pro-shop seems to have de-camped to the lounge, the office to the snooker room and the payment machine to the office, so it's all a bit confusing. There's sheep and their droppings all over the place and the greens are lumpy such that the collective opinion is that Southerndown cannot justify the £75 green fee. Nonetheless it's a pleasant enough course in benign weather. Thre are no takers for the extra 18 at £25.

A factor of Muffin's tours is Bainey's consistency. Generally always in the upper echelons of the scoring, today is his opportunity to come out on top which he seizes with both hands. 

Tate hits some shots where even the sheep have never ventured and brings matters to a conclusion with a downhill chip off a bare lie over a bunker and into the clubhouse windows that eventually comes to rest behind the patio railings.

On the football front it's a red-letter day with the Yam-Yams crushing the Baggies at lunchtime and the afternoon is spent watching Utd vs Chelsea in the hotel bar. This is marred by the prescence of two Welsh half-wits, high on something, who insist on shouting at each other despite being sat only two feet apart. After 10 minutes, Mr. Grumpy de-camps to the other side of the lounge.

Dinner is but a short taxi-ride away to a Chinese which, in the pantheon of Muffin's meals, will not rank highly. A largely deserted restaurant results in the meal being delivered to the table within seconds of being ordered. Freshly prepared? My a**e.

Fortunately succour is at hand in the aforementioned waterside bar where another extended session is enjoyed. 
