Waterville

Azure ocean lapping against the glistening sand in the background, the scene was more like the Caribbean in summer than the south-west of Ireland in April.

The birds chirped, Waterville’s famous hares skipped, and the lesser-spotted Podcast Partner unleashed a 40ft putt towards the hole.

The ball rammed the back of the cup, and he went on a spontaneous run of delight that I feared might climax with his shirt over his head.

Thankfully, clothing remained intact, and I offered him a high-five as a meek replacement for the adoration of his imaginary crowd.

I shouldn’t be churlish. He deserved his birdie two and a champagne moment after some splendid golf that had long seen me off in our matchplay.

I was only disappointed that my golf had not matched the magnificence of Waterville’s incredible links. His certainly had.

We agreed that we may have played on the best day of the year on the Kerry coast.

There was a mere hint of breeze on a day that the sun shone brightly enough to highlight the glorious views of mountains and sea, with freckles of vivid yellow gorse on the course and white-faced cottages dotted around it.

The course could not have been in better condition. The greens ran true but tricky, the fairway turf was admirably consistent, and the tee boxes were pristine.

The clubhouse at Waterville is modern and impressive; I downed a delicious breakfast omelette before adjourning to a practice area with two large putting greens and a top-quality driving range.

A sculpture of former honorary captain, Payne Stewart, greets players as they make their way to the first tee. The opener is ironically named ‘Last Easy’ because it is neither.

It has a trio of bunkers hugging the left of the fairway and a stream running the length of the right-hand side. This is the first meeting with the run-offs of Waterville, which threaten to send inaccurate balls into greenside sand traps.

Eight bunkers loiter to catch drives on the potent second, which was among the eclectic Irish 18 named by Christy O’Connor in 1986.

Three more are greenside, and I avoided them all only to make a hash of a putt from off the green. My short game ran cold for the whole round.

But the wow factor ratchets up a notch on the third – a par-four with the River Inny inlet running down the right-hand side and in front of the green.

My mediocre start continued with a horrible fade into the brine. At low tide, it was evident that I was not alone – there were more balls than fish.

PP continued a glorious run through some stunning front-nine holes, and even the hares lined the fairways to show their appreciation.

Incredibly, the second nine’s Eddie Hackett layout is even more awe-inspiring than the first half.

Apparently, Gary Player said Tranquillity, the 11th hole, was the "most beautiful and satisfying par five of them all." It winds through a narrow valley of grassed dunes.

All that could be heard was birdsong, the crashing of waves, and my yelps of dismay as I was fooled by yet another steep bank at the front of the target.

In the 18th century, long before golf on the site, the deep hollow on what is now the par-three 12th was used by locals to secretly celebrate Catholic Mass because it was outlawed.

 I needed divine intervention after failing to find the green, which is perched above the grassy chasm. The God of pars was unhelpful despite a decent chip.

PP had set off like a hare, and I was imitating the proverbial tortoise. The problem was that he wasn’t stopping, and I wasn’t starting.

The par-five 13th has 13 bunkers and is the last with a full mountain backdrop. I was preparing to shake hands on our game when I duffed a three-wood second shot but recovered for a par to prolong the inevitable.

O’Connor’s second inclusion in Ireland’s best is the 14th – a par-four which, according to the strokesaver, appears shorter than it actually is.

If only I had read the advice that was in my pocket, I might have extended our game.

It is no exaggeration to say that the final three holes are among the best run-ins I have encountered.

The 16th is ‘Liam’s Ace’, named after long-time professional Liam Higgins who recorded a hole-in-one on the 350-yard par-four.

It needs to be played to realise just how remarkable that feat was on a hole that rises before dipping and ascending again as it reaches the green. PP executed a very smart four.

By this stage, the beach is directly to the right, and the views are simply staggering.

Three hundred and sixty degrees from the tee of the 17th, named Mulcahy’s Peak after the course’s founder, the panorama takes in the Atlantic, the Macgillycuddy’s Reeks and the entire links.

PP had already proclaimed this as one of the days of his golfing life when he found the front of the green of a hair-raising par-three where the ball could easily slip down the false front, into bunkers, or over the side of the property.

His dad-dance celebration was entirely justified. Sadly, the hole will not be remembered for my birdie putt, which missed by a whisker.

And so to the 18th, a par-five stunner alongside the beach with the clubhouse and more mountains as the target’s backdrop. Having avoided calamity, I three-putted for the umpteenth time.

Meanwhile, PP, just like Waterville itself, proved he was Kerry gold.