Royal North Devon or "Westwood Ho! is not for the faint-hearted. Open, wind-swept, shit-strewn (even before Bainey), it lies under a Turner-esque sky largely unchanged since Old Tom Morris made a rare excursion away from his beloved St Andrews to potter about with a trowel and a few flags.

In the eyes of Mr. Grumpy it's a gem, golf as originally envisaged and just as God intended. In Nance's opinion it would benefit from the attentions of a tractor and a couple of hundred-weight of seed potatoes.

"Chacun a son gou" as they say.

Over a leisurely lunch in the unique clubhouse the rain abates and DJ, Tate, and Bainey lead the way, followed by Fat-Boy, Nance and Mr. Grumpy. 

The first 7 or 8 holes are into a strong gale which causes numerous problems including banana shots, bunker mayhem, lies in rabbit holes and lies in spiny, spikey things plus slick windswept greens . The next 5 holes are generally with the wind, but involve playing over the infamous player-devouring "triffids". The final 5 holes are a piece of piss.

Tate's renaissance is complete and another 38 points, ably supported by Bainey allow him to collect both the individual and team honours. Fat-Boy scores a creditable 34 which, in tandem with steady performances throughout the Tour deservedly brings him the 2010 Tour title.

A good three days during which - and despite all indications to the contrary- no waterproofs and umbrellas were ever required. Excellent courses - although Mr. Grumpy's opinion of RNDGC is somewhat less rosy - and as ever, excellent company.

Further research has revealed that Ilfracombe is yet to be "twinned" with any other town, but it has a suicide pact with both Chernobyl and Bhopal.

