One day some years ago, a foursome of German visitors to the Royal Ashdown Forest Golf Club in the south of England were waiting to begin their round when they noticed that the groups ahead of them had each gone off the first tee with a canine companion trotting alongside. Perplexed, one of the Germans inquired of a member, "Excuse me, sir, but we find this quite odd: What is the purpose of all these dogs?"
The Englishman sensed a chance to have a bit of fun with the guest. "Oh," he replied gravely. "Dogs are obligatory at this club, you see."
The visitor took this intelligence quite seriously. "And where might we find a dog for our game of golf?"
It was all the Ashdown member could do to keep a straight face. "Well, you can rent one at the professional's shop."
So they did. To the Englishman's surprise and delight, the visitors plodded off, back up the hill to the clubhouse, returning a few minutes later with a handsome retriever, rented from the pro for an undisclosed sum.
I hadn't been at Royal Ashdown Forest more than five minutes when I first heard the story. It was a perfect summer afternoon, and I had paused in the parking lot to take in the scene. I admired the modest Edwardian clubhouse and watched a group hit their approach shots to the first green. Two juniors practiced their chipping while a pair of dogs played in the shade nearby. I exchanged greetings with one of the dog owners, a club member, and no sooner had I remarked on how happy the tumbling canines looked than he told me the tale of the German visitors. The story sounds apocryphal, but that hardly matters. It was the perfect introduction to Royal Ashdown Forest.
"We're an old-fashioned club," said Douglas Neave, the club secretary. "And a very traditional one as well. But we try not to be too stuffy."
Of course, any club where one can take the family dog along during a match, any club where one might receive assistance in the search for a lost ball from a group of elderly hikers wearing Wellies, any club whose one-time warning to visitors referenced Winnie the Pooh ("beware of small bears and bouncing tigers"), cannot by any standard be classified as stuffy.
There are thirty-six holes at the Royal Ashdown Forest Golf Club, consisting of the Old course and the very underrated West course, a landmark in the history of women's golf. The Old course, for its part, has a single yet crucial point in common with a famed links of the same name—the Old Course at St. Andrews. They share the advantage of being laid out on common land—privately held property that can be crossed over by anyone. A few dozen courses in the United Kingdom share this provenance, and in bringing golfers and nongolfers together it has a positive effect on the spirit of a place, as anyone who has ever made a ten-footer for par on St. Andrews's home hole and drawn polite applause from the gallery knows. And like the original Old Course, Royal Ashdown offers an incredibly rare type of pure, lay-of-the-land golf experience that is both thrilling to play and rewarding to study. Unlike the Old Course at St. Andrews, however, the one at Royal Ashdown has not a single sand bunker on its grounds. (It's not the only bunkerless course in the world, just the best of its kind.)
What it does have, in abundance, is available tee times and welcoming club members. Travelers might also be surprised to find how easy it is to reach this sleepy, picturesque corner of England—the village of Forest Row is only a twenty-minute drive from Gatwick Airport. Along with the golf, Ashdown Forest is absolutely brimming with activities, and it's a pleasure to discover the country pubs and the tea rooms, the gardens and the grand hotels.
Even better, the area is an excellent family destination. After all, it was here that the writer A. A. Milne, who made his country home in nearby Hartfield village, created one of the most beloved children's characters of all time in Winnie the Pooh. The timeless adventures of his son, Christopher Robin, and the small bear he befriends unfold in the pastoral settings of the forest—including the Enchanted Place, a hilltop clearing where Christopher Robin has commemorated the memory of his father—and they remain largely untouched to this day.
Writing in the eighth century, The great historian Bede described Ashdown Forest as "all but inaccessible... the resort of large herds of deer and wolves and wild boars." Beginning in 1372, the forest functioned as a royal hunting ground—a deer park equipped with a boundary fence that allowed animals to enter but not escape. The land was held by royal commission by generations of earls of Dorset and Bristol, but in the fourteenth century, commoners living on the forest's periphery were granted the right to graze their animals on the land and forage dead timber for firewood. As tenant farmers with small holdings outside the forest, use of the common land was essential to their survival, and their ongoing defense of these ancient rights pitted them against various lords of the manor who sought to manage their environmental impact.
Beginning in the mid-1870s, the forest's owner, the seventh Earl De La Warr (pronounced "Delaware"), became involved in a protracted court case, again focused on the issue of commoners' land-use rights. In 1885 Parliament settled the case by adopting the Ashdown Forest Act, which formally invested a Board of Conservators, established four years earlier, with broad authority over the forest. The board, which still exists today, would consist of twelve elected commoners and a representative of the lord of the manor. By coming together as they did, the people of Ashdown Forest prepared the ground for the creation of one of the most distinct golf courses in the world.
Three years after the Ashdown Forest Act, the earl, noting the golf course building boom taking place in England (forty-three new courses had emerged from 1880 to 1887, and no fewer than 427 layouts would open during the 1890s), provided the initial encouragement for the foundation of a golf club on his family's land. He would eventually become the club's first president.
According to the club history, the British Army came to the forest in May of that year for training maneuvers, and it was then that His Royal Highness the Duke of Cambridge played his first shot: "Attired in cocked hat with plumes, tight blue coat and a sword, he took a club from John Rowe, the professional, who had made it specially for him, and played off. It was quite a good shot for his first attempt and traveled some sixty yards—the duke was delighted!"
By July, Earl De La Warr's efforts and the club's hospitality culminated in the bestowal of the "Royal" title—a remarkable achievement for such a young club, and one that only sixty-one worldwide hold today. The title confers a great deal of prestige, but it is tempered by the club's connection to the common land, which gave rise to an egalitarian atmosphere that echoes through to today.
The Royal Ashdown Forest Golf Club has essentially integrated three societies into one—the eponymous main club; the Ladies Club, formed in 1889; and the Cantelupe Club, established in 1892 to foster goodwill among the local artisans. All can claim legendary figures as their own. Famed writer and amateur champion Horace Hutchinson was a stalwart of the main club. Joyce Wethered and Cecil Leitch squared off on the West course, the second-oldest ladies' course in England. And Abe Mitchell, considered the best player of his era (the 1920s) never to win the Open, learned the game as part of the Cantelupe. Today, the annual match between the blue-blood "toffs" and the artisans—marked by "competitive golf and much alcoholic enjoyment," according to the club history—is a favorite tradition in this friendly association between clubs.
The unique character of the Old course itself was also influenced by the common-land element. From the start, the Forest Conservators prohibited alterations of the natural terrain, the removal of mature trees (open areas for playing corridors already existed thanks to earlier timbering efforts) and the building of any "unnatural obstacles." Therefore, the course would not have a single sand bunker, much less any of the artificial features found in the playbook of modern architecture—no irrigation ponds, no cart paths, no visual clutter. A few antiquated mule-and-dragpan efforts do exist—the second green is bulkheaded to keep it from sliding into the nearby stream, and some small but suspicious-looking containment mounds appear behind the green of the long par-three eleventh—but one can imagine how easily the course could melt into the landscape, vanish without a trace, if it were left alone for a year or two. For any daydreaming golfer who plots imaginary holes over a piece of wild land, for anyone who wonders what the most natural course in the world might look like, Ashdown is essential.
One can reasonably ask, however, how such a course might provide either visual interest or strategic challenge. The answer, simply, is that the land is naturally superb—rolling green-brown hills with the sweeping contours of a glacial riverbed. Unlike Ashdown's sandy Surrey neighbors, the soil is clay-based, but high concentrations of sand and silt allow it to drain quite well, creating firm playing conditions. It has all the natural hazards one could wish for: The late golf course architect Frank Pennink, a former club member, wrote of the "heather bounding every fairway, and gorse, streams, grassy pits and undulations, severe at times, making hazards difficult enough." Pennink added, significantly, "The yardage bears no resemblance to the length the course plays."
Since the Old course measures only 6,463 yards from the back tees, carries the standard par of seventy-two and is bunkerless, it would seem the pros could surely rip this course to shreds. But history has proven otherwise. The course has hosted regional Open Championship qualifiers the past three years, and no one, in this age of 350-yard drives, has managed a round of less than sixty-seven. Said secretary Neave, "I guess the old girl can still defend herself well!"
The Old course's formidable defenses are largely the result of a design that hews so closely to the natural terrain that shot values are often just a shade unconventional. Some holes are plain in appearance, their challenges subtle. Others are belligerent and intimidating, demanding heroic carries, sure shots from tricky lies, or both at the same time. If it weren't for the tranquil heathland setting, this would be a difficult course to ever feel comfortable on.
Royal Ashdown Forest begins with a simple-looking short par four whose wide fairway inspires confidence. The approach, however, is a delicate operation, where a two-tiered green waits to spoil a perfect drive. By the second hole, the game is on, with a steeply uphill tee shot to a blind landing area followed by an all-carry second to a green fronted by a dangerous stream. The beguiling sixth, a tiny par three of 125 yards, is worth noting for its marvelous old-school "island" green: Surrounded on three sides by another stream, it looks almost as if a giant tortoise plunked down on the mossy banks and someday might just decide to crawl away.
As the round unfolds, it becomes apparent that the Old course is actually more difficult for its lack of bunkers. The purple heather lining the fairways has a nasty habit of gobbling up wayward shots, and those balls "lucky" enough to be found are usually lodged shin deep in some of the roughest stuff imaginable. And it's even worse when approach shots find the greenside heather: After a few hacks without the first clue of how the ball is going to come out, pot bunkers look like five-star resorts in comparison.
The modern design convention of balanced nines is also completely out the window at Ashdown. The front nine is a carefree walk in the park compared to what happens after the turn, where several jaw-dropping holes await. It's not every day one plays a 250-yard par three (the eleventh) that is exposed to heavy winds and bordered entirely by scrub. Or the bruising, uphill par-four thirteenth: Playing in a driving rain, my partner and I were almost giddy to find, after finishing the hole, a table set up beneath the trees bearing glasses of Stone's Green Ginger Wine. It was the perfect belly-warmer to fortify against the elements on the way in. We would need it to contend with the 486-yard par-four seventeenth, which has to be among the toughest two-shotters in England. After a blind tee shot, golfers reach the top of a ridge and enjoy a view of the tumbling fairway and, in the distance, a green benched gracefully against the hillside.
The approach to the seventeenth is but one of many inspiring moments one will find at Royal Ashdown Forest. Of course, for the traveling golf writer, the problem with England (if it is a problem at all) is that if the course is great, the incomparable Bernard Darwin has already been there and penned an epitaph laserlike in its precision. And so it is with the Old course: "It is not quite like any other course of my acquaintance, and I never knew anyone who played on it and was not fond of it."
Not bad. The club's own motto, Per tot discrimina rerum, is a pretty good summing up as well. The Latin translates roughly to "Through so many kinds of difficulty"—perfect for a golf course where one's playing partners will compliment a shot that travels all of ten feet so long as it has moved from the heather back to the fairway.
It takes a great philosopher, however, to find the purest expression of this idea. For this we turn to none other than Winnie the Pooh, who captured the essence of golf in his native Ashdown Forest (not to mention the vexing issue of a jar of honey just out of reach) when he said, "Oh, bother!"
Back to Pooh Corner
If you're traveling with kids, a tour of Winnie the Pooh country is a must. First, stop by the Pooh Corner shop in Hartfield (pooh-country.co.uk) to pick up a free map and visitor's guide; the store also sells "Poohphernalia" of every description, vintage- and Disney-era alike, but the experience isn't overly commercialized. Visitors to the shop can see photos and learn the story of the real-life Winnie, the mascot of a World War I Canadian infantry brigade. The cub was carried by troop transport to England and then donated to the London Zoo, where young Christopher Robin Milne would later play with the tame bear—inside its cage!
But you'll have the most fun on the short hikes to discover the rustic locales that inspired A. A. Milne, like the Five Hundred Acre Wood and the Enchanted Place. They're all off the beaten track and uncrowded. The pleasure is in walking the vaguely marked footpath past a horse farm and through dense forest and finally happening upon the little Poohsticks Bridge just as you're thinking of turning around and heading back. Don't expect entertainment beyond what the imagination provides: They're just pretty places in the unspoiled countryside, perfect for a picnic or a game of hide-and-seek.
England's Heathland Treasures
After the first great English links were established in the late 1800s, architects turned their sights inland to the heathlands south of London. The forested terrain had previously been deemed unsuitable for golf, but the clearance of trees and heather revealed an undulating landscape with sandy soil offering linkslike playing conditions, and a slew of great courses sprang into existence around the turn of the twentieth century.
Ashdown Forest is a good staging ground for visiting the storied clubs of neighboring Surrey and Berkshire. The ultimate heathland experience might be had at Swinley Forest—provided, that is, you know a few members of the House of Lords. (The club is so secluded that even members are rumored to miss the entrance drive.) Among clubs we can reasonably access, the historic championship venues of Sunningdale (sunningdale-golfclub.co.uk), Wentworth (wentworthclub.com) and Walton Heath (whgc.co.uk) are brilliant tests of golf. All three are well-heeled operations with two layouts and steep visitor's fees. Each is about an hour's drive from Forest Row (avoid the M25 ring road during rush hour).
A well-rounded itinerary, though, would mix in a couple of smaller heathlanders like Woking (wokinggolfclub.co.uk), which some consider the first good inland course; Worplesdon (worplesdongc.co.uk); or The Addington (addingtongolf.com). West Sussex Golf Club (westsussexgolf.co.uk), an hour west of Forest Row, also has a sterling reputation. Together these layouts helped to usher in the modern era of strategic design.
Trip Planner: Ashdown Forest
Where to Play
Royal Ashdown Forest Golf Club Old Course: ****1/2
Architect: Rev. A. T. Scott, 1889. Yardage: 6,463. Par: 72. Greens Fee: $110. Contact: Chapel Lane, Forest Row, East Sussex; 011-44/1342-822-018, royalashdown.co.uk.
West Course: ***
Architect: W. R. Lee, 1889; Horace Hutchinson, 1932. Yardage: 5,606. Par: 68. Greens Fee: $55. Contact: Same.
Where to Stay
Less than a ten-minute drive from the golf club, the Ashdown Park Hotel (ashdownpark.com; rooms from $335) in Forest Row is the best base for exploring the area. The cavernous stone mansion has changed hands several times over the years, its interior most visibly influenced by five decades as a Catholic convent. Elite Hotels, however, has added all the modern amenities, including a spa and fitness center and even an eighteen-hole par-three course.
Forty minutes down the road in the village of Cuckfield is Ockenden Manor (hshotels.co.uk; rooms from $335), an almost toylike country house that dates to the early seventeenth century. Of its twenty-two cozy rooms, many still have their original fireplaces and detailing intact.
Where to Eat
For a formal evening, the Anderida Restaurant at the Ashdown Park Hotel and the Michelin-starred Ockenden Manor restaurant are both paragons of gastronomy. But it's the country pubs that best capture the area's spirit. Often located on back roads in converted farm buildings, they are hubs of social life where locals gossip over pints of bitter. Dried hops festooned from the rafters lend interiors a warm, rustic charm, and they all feature fine cuisine and solid wine lists. My favorite, the Coach and Horses (011-44/1825-740-369) in Danehill, even received the Michelin "Bib Gourmand" for its French-inflected fare—the highest accolade available to pubs and informal restaurants. In Hartfield, the Hay Waggon Inn (011-44/1892-770-252) offers homemade pizzas alongside traditional fare such as Yorkshire pudding. At the bustling Hatch Inn (011-44/1342-822-363) near Forest Row, try the Angus steak with mushroom sauce and crispy leeks.
Other Attractions
Opera lovers cherish the summer-long Glyndebourne Festival (glynde bourne.com) held at one of the world's most prestigious opera houses. Picnicking in the gardens at intermission (which lasts ninety minutes, so the "picnic" is an extravagant meal) is a smart way to spend an evening.
Garden and manor touring is also popular, and there are scores of well-preserved historic piles from which to choose. The two I visited, Gravetye Manor (gravetyemanor.co.uk) near East Grinstead and Great Dixter (greatdixter.co.uk) in Northiam, were remarkable. The former is an Elizabethan mansion once owned by William Robinson, who advanced the "wild garden" in opposition to Victorian ideals of order in nature. The latter was the home of Christopher Lloyd, who wrote a garden column for Country Life for forty years (he died last year). The house is a palimpsest of styles from medieval to modern, and the colorful gardens highlight the interplay of the formal and the experimental.
And be sure to take your kids—or the kid in you—to the attractions of Pooh country.
