Ten out of 10 for the unstuffy service, smart decor and the pastry chef at West Clare's extravagant new golf resort of Doonbeg.
The reason I liked Doonbeg Lodge so much had nothing to do with its culture of privacy or exclusivity. Or its golf links. I liked it because the minute I walked into our suite, I wanted to live there. It felt like home. Of course this was a home minus clutter, unresolved piles of paper and boxer shorts on the floor. But that's another day's work.
I'll get to the golf in a minute – for it is primarily a golf resort – but allow me to hide out in the Lodge a while longer, in our two-storey apartment overlooking the sea with dark, wide, reclaimed wood floors, beamed ceilings, a tall mantelpiece sheltering an open gas fire, deep-seated sofa and armchairs, handsomely co-ordinated fabrics and carpeting, good Sean MacSweeneyesque paintings. The odd antique. Books and other curiosities. Wonderful colours.
Downstairs there's a sitting room, Gaggenau kitchen, dining alcove and bathroom; upstairs two enormous and positively luxurious en suite bedrooms separated by the stairwell.
It's not a hotel, per se. The Lodge is comprised of 15 privately-owned suites with 32 more suites in interconnecting courtyards. All are leased as accomodation to visitors. Don't mention the phrase "time share". It's a club. Essentially, it's a property investment club worth over 150 million euros with golf links designed by Greg Norman, a spa designed by Clodagh International, a restaurant presided over by chef Aidan McGrath, formerly of Sheen Falls in Kenmare, and landscaping by Diarmuid Gavin. No expense spared.
Lahinch is 30 minutes to the north, Kilkee 15 minutes to the south. From Limerick you drive through Ennis and its new suburb(!) of Lissycasey. Then you're on a true country road until the Doonbeg development suddenly looms up in the middle of nowhere. A bit like Wuthering Heights. With cranes.
The minute we drive into the cobbled courtyard, the concierge sprints out the door to take our bags. It's slightly Disneyfield with a thatched gatelodge. No donkey, though.
With me is a pal from Adare, who falls in immediately with a clatter of golfers and Limerick cognoscenti. We're in like Flynn. We're won over immediately by the lavish, country manor style. None of your unforgiving minimalism here; this place will age gracefully, including the Doonbeg tartan fabric made up for them by Hanley's of Nenagh.
We have a cup of tea in the Darby restaurant, served with melt-in-your-mouth chocolate and pistachio biscuits. The sun is shining and the Atlantic is rolling over the crescent-shaped beach, where you can walk for over a mile and a half. There are as many surfers plying the waves as golfers wandering atop the 500 foot dunes. The par-72 layout features a single loop of nine holes and nine back. The sea is visible from the green, fairway or tee of 16 of the 18 holes. "Lahinch is more difficult but Doonbeg is far more beautiful," I am reliably told.
Charitably, most holes feature five or more tee locations to allow for the changing wind speed and direction. Greg Norman didn't have too much designing to do: 14 of the greens and 12 of its fairways were simply mowed.
Susanne heads for the spa, I go for a ramble and later we have a scrumptious meal: seared foie gras with pumpkin fondant, trompette mushroom, Madeira jus, followed by a five star fillet of veal. She has a delicate prawn ravioli to start followed by fillet beef. Remarkably good meat, we agree. The desserts were corkers, too. Bravo to the pastry chef. The service was totally correct, and not the least bit overbearing.
Back upstairs, then, to sleep with the window open and the sea roaring outside. To a stone-floored bathroom with a huge showerhead and basket of Burren Perfumery toiletries and hand-cut soap. Lots of glossy books to peruse. Large chocolate truffles made in Kerry on the coffee table. Not the only Kaymen beds in Ireland, but possibly the best dressed, with seven pillows to fall back on in a swoon. You can buy the linens in the golf-pro shop.
Can't report on breakfast: the suite was too comfortable to leave. There were apples on the table and cheese in the fridge, enough to keep us happy.
A brisk walk, eventually, followed by a sauna and an indulgent pedicure lure me out of my den. The gym equipment is wildly technical, designed to address golfers' woes, with as many treatments for men as for women.
Part of the Lodge is for members only, with a private bar, dining rooms, library. You can withstand being excluded without too much rancour, though, because at least you can sidle off to your own private suite, thank you very much. Members' and visitors' names are zealously guarded, and many are Americans who travel from one golf resort to another. Keith Wood is involved in the courtyard cottages. Denis O'Brien is mentioned. Lisdoonvarva's own Bernard McNamara owns a suite. Hugh Grant's name comes up by accident.
Enviromentally, 51 acres of grey dunes are fenced off permanently for preservation and are not in play. The famous endangered snail, Vertigo angustior, is monitored to live another day. Surfers' access is sometimes contentious, though they appear to outnumber the golfers.
It's another world – with a clatter of development yet to come from the owners, Kiawah Development Partners. But if you treat yourself to one extravagant Irish break this year, you won't be disappointed in the parish of Doonbeg – especially if, to paraphrase the club's director, your pockets are heavy and your heart is light.
