Royal Antwerp

It was as if we had been transported to England’s Home Counties.

We were the only ones drinking morning coffee in the clubhouse at Royal Antwerp, but we could immediately sense its history of grand aristocratic events. Founded in 1888 by British expat W.J.R. Watson, the club is the oldest golfing establishment in Belgium.

Willie Park Junior carved out a design in the quiet Kapellenbos pinewoods north of the city when the club moved in 1910. However, it was Tom Simpson’s extensive 1930 redesign that truly defined the course, instilling a strategic philosophy that values clever positioning over sheer distance.

The superb, traditional clubhouse still retains a distinctly English feel, paying homage to its early days with vintage photographs and historic artefacts. As we sat inside waiting for the heavy rain to abate before heading to the first tee, the clouds parted just on cue, allowing Mrs W and me to happily pack away our waterproofs.

Pine, birch, and shrewdly positioned bunkers are the primary hazards here. The opening hole sets the tone immediately, demanding a drive down a narrow avenue of timber to a green guarded by sand on both sides. Having not played in moist conditions for months, we suddenly realised we had to hit the ball with everything we had just to maintain our distances.

Royal Antwerp is magnificently manicured. Tee boxes, patterned fairways, true but subtle greens, and cunning run-offs reflect the meticulous attention to detail expected of a top-tier club. The course compensates for its lack of elevation by testing golfers through tight lines off the tee and narrow approaches—a test fully demonstrated by the par-three second, measuring just under 200 yards.

I started my round well, hitting a handsome drive on the stroke-index-one sixth—a par-four requiring a long carry down the left to set up an ideal approach to a table-top green. Fortunately, I avoided the steep slope in front that diverts misfits straight into a bunker, allowing me to secure a satisfying par.

The seventh was my favourite par-three, demanding pinpoint accuracy over thick rough and through a funnel of trees into a green featuring a fiendish false front framed by large sand traps. 

Throughout the front nine, the overarching tranquillity of Royal Antwerp set it apart, broken only by the distant siren of a nearby construction site.

On the ninth, I successfully avoided the ditch that cuts diagonally across the fairway. A bunker awaits anyone trying to shave the corner of this dogleg without sufficient length. I played it conservatively as a five and was pleased to make the turn with 17 Stableford points, fully expecting to match that coming home.

Unfortunately, having spent the previous two full days walking the fairways watching the Solheim Cup, fatigue caught up with me. My energy and my swing deserted me, so a good score—along with any hope of beating Mrs W—was soon out of reach.

The standout hole on the back nine is arguably the par-five 11th, a double dogleg that sweeps right through an avenue of trees before turning toward a green partially hidden behind a copse. I thought the smart play was to hit down the right to open up the target, but a large trap stymied that plan, while a well-placed pot bunker stands ready to snaffle shots taking a more direct line.

A misfire on the par-three 12th will land you in a sea of heather stretching between tee and green, while pulls or fades easily find the surrounding trees or sand.

On the 14th, a par five or better is only possible if you sidestep the sand—easier said than done. Cleverly placed traps catch those trying to cut the corner of the bend, another lies in wait 60 yards short of the green, and three more guard the front of the putting surface.

Normally in a match against Mrs W, perseverance pays off and course management wins out. This time, however, the last three holes belonged entirely to her as my game slipped scarily out of gear. 

My topped tee shot on the par-three 16th might have been my worst stroke of the year, dropping meekly into the heather bed short of the target. It was a pity, as it is a gorgeous hole defended by three bunkers flanking the sides and front.

By the 18th, I had completely unravelled. The home hole incorporates all of Royal Antwerp's signature elements: a drive framed by trees over a path and heather onto a fairway bending to the right. 

Taking a tight line remains high-risk with bunkers hugging the right boundary, while a giant sand trap sits to the left of a green cut with a deceptive front slope and subtle run-offs.

To the left stands the clubhouse veranda, looking like the perfect spot to unwind after the round. Alas, we didn’t have time to do that because we needed to drive to the Channel Tunnel. 

But Royal Antwerp and our previous round at Royal Zoute left us with an itch for more Belgian golf which we will undoubtedly scratch.