“Meeting the Dull Men of Great Britain – The Crazy Golfers”
18 minute read
It felt like I was on a date.
My hands wouldn’t keep still, my heart was beating fast, and a small bead of sweat trickled steadily down my forehead. I was nervous, and it was starting to get the better of me.
It was 11.00am on a Sunday morning and I was sat in a busy pub in the town of Glossop in Derbyshire. I was nursing a small glass of Coca Cola and shifted forwards in my seat, then backwards, then I coughed a couple of times, and then I leaned forward once more and took a sip of my drink.
The door opened and I quickly looked up to see whether it was my ‘date’ that had arrived, but no; it was just a little old man and his trusty golden retriever.
I looked around the room at all the different people that were around me; couples out for Sunday brunch, people fighting off their Saturday-night hangovers, and groups of guys that were getting ready to watch the football.
And then there was me. The only man in the pub sat all by himself. Even the little old man had his golden retriever for company.
Once again I whispered the same question to myself that I’d asked many times before.
“What the hell am I doing?”
For anybody that hasn’t read the first Dull Men articles yet, let me bring you up to speed.
The story began with me ironing my socks (long story), and then I happened to stumble across a book called The Dull Men of Great Britain (which had nothing to do with ironing socks). I became fascinated by this group of people, reflected upon my own dull tendencies, and this of course left me feeling like I was destined to meet them. I mean that’s just normal behaviour, right?
Anyway, I made contact with the Dull Men’s Club (which is an actual thing) and then went to meet them at their Dull Men’s event (which is also an actual thing). But sharing a brief hello wasn’t enough; I needed to meet them individually, face to face, and I wanted to witness them doing what they do and to understand why they do what they do.
I had quickly come to believe that these men might hold the key to something that a lot of us are missing in our own lives, and I wanted to get to the bottom of it.
What was it about their chosen area of dullness that stirred their passions so greatly? What impact has this had upon their lives? And from a more philosophical standpoint, what do they believe is the key to living a more happy and fulfilled life?
I was so lost in these thoughts that I’d not heard the door open or the approaching footsteps.
“Well he told us to meet him at the table near the door, and he said he’d be wearing a white carnation and…”
I immediately recognized that familiar and friendly voice and I looked up to find Richard and Emily Gottfried stood before me, smiling, with their golf clubs hanging characteristically over their shoulders.
“Hey, how you doing?” I asked enthusiastically.
I stood up to shake both their hands, which caused their golf clubs to jingle around.
“Not bad at all thank you. It’s a good day for some crazy golf.”
And it certainly was. It was a beautiful summer’s day and now that they’d arrived I began to feel a little more at ease, yet there was no hiding from the fact that this was going to be a big day for me. Contacting the DMC had been one thing and going to the event had been another, but today was to be the very first face-to-face meeting.
I needed to bring my game to the day, and in more ways than one.
“It felt like I was waiting for a date.” I admitted. “It’s been a while since I was last sat in a pub waiting for a stranger to arrive.”
“Well if it makes you feel any better I didn’t know if you’d be a weirdo or not and so I’ve booked an insurance call with my brother.” Richard laughed. “He’s going to call me in half an hour and so I’ve always got the option to escape.”
I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, but I laughed anyway.
Me? A weirdo?
Well he had a point I suppose.
“I was sat here asking myself if I should just shake your hands, give you a hug, or go for the high five. I’m just not sure what the correct protocol is these days.” I said, half jokingly, because I genuinely didn’t know what the correct protocol was for an odd situation like this.
We grabbed a drink from the bar and then sat down and made ourselves comfortable.
“So let’s take it right from the beginning.” I started.
“Where did your enthusiasm for crazy golf begin?”
It turned out that it started primarily from Emily’s side. Like many of us Brits that encountered crazy golf in our early lives, Emily’s first experience came from family holidays away at the seaside.
Crazy golf has always been one of the quintessential activities for English seaside holidays and is right up there with amusement arcades, donkey rides, and the occasional dive-bomb attack from hungry seagulls.
Richard had been introduced to it in the same way, but as he hit his teen years and the family holidays had come to an end, crazy golf soon became a long forgotten memory.
But when Richard and Emily both met at university in the year 2000, Emily was still super-enthusiastic for crazy golf and this reignited Richard’s love of the seaside staple.
“We both loved the seaside and we both grew up playing crazy golf, and so it all fell into place when we met.”
They bought their first car together in 2006 which then gave them a means of travelling to the seaside and playing a number of different courses, and then it all grew from there. Flash forward 12 years and they’ve now visited over 850 courses with 38 of those being overseas and in 12 different countries. As far as well-travelled crazy golfers go, they’re right the way up there!
It didn’t take long for them to make the natural progression of taking it to competition level with both of them making their tournament debuts back in 2007. In the April, Richard competed in the BMGA British Masters at Adventure Island in Southend on Sea, while Emily took on the World Crazy Golf Championships in Hastings in the October.
Although in those first tournaments they finished 24th and 54th respectively, they’ve since gone on to represent Great Britain in a number of international tournaments, including the Nations Cup events in Tampere, Finland in 2008 and Stockholm, Sweden in 2011.
They’ve also competed for Great Britain at the World Adventure Golf Masters tournaments in Hastings where Emily become a two-time WMF Women’s World Adventure Golf Masters champion, taking the title in 2011 and 2013.
Richard has won seven times on the BMGA national tour circuit and has also won a number of invitational tournaments, including one in Las Vegas. In 2017 he appeared on Sky Sports having qualified for the American Golf Adventure Golf Pairs Championship National Final and with his playing partner, Peter Jones, they were runners up. Richard’s highest national ranking is 5th and he’s been a finalist in the World Crazy Golf Championships, finishing in 17th position each time.
Without doubt, they’re heavyweights of the crazy golf world and their achievements are made all the more impressive given that they originate from a country that only views crazy golf as a fun activity rather than a sport. In many other countries around the world, crazy golf is held in much higher regard and as such, both Richard and Emily are committed to bringing a greater level of appreciation and recognition to the sport in the UK. Yes, that’s right, I said sport.
“Unfortunately crazy golf isn’t actually a recognized sport in the UK.” Said Richard. “Instead it’s just dismissed as being a smaller version of a proper sport.”
“You mean golf?” I asked, and which quite frankly is the most ridiculous question that I’ve ever asked in my life. Of course he meant golf.
“Uh-huh.” Richard responded, because that’s about as much of a response as my stupid question deserved.
“But what about table tennis though? That’s recognized as a sport isn’t it, and that’s only a smaller version of tennis.” I countered.
Richard’s face swelled with passion as he pointed at me enthusiastically.
It seems I’d redeemed myself with this question, and it really was a fair point. If table tennis could be recognized as a legitimate sport, then why shouldn’t crazy golf be? I was starting to really get on board with this and I was suddenly feeling passionate about the whole thing. In fact I began to have visions of making a march on the houses of parliament and chaining myself to the railings in protest.
“We even wrote to the government about it.” Emily added.
That’s weird. Could she read my thoughts?
“Well you’re from Derby, right?” Richard asked.
“So I take it you’re familiar with Markeaton Park?”
“I most certainly am.” I said smiling. “I once had a date there, but there was this really embarrassing incident by the duck pond.”
Richard and Emily sat in silence.
“There was no second date.” I added, and now it was me that was sat in silence.
Richard coughed, Emily sipped her drink, and the old man’s golden retriever looked at me with sad eyes.
“Anyway, we read in the newspaper that David Cameron had visited Derby and went to Markeaton Park. There was a crazy golf course there at the time and he played it, and there was a great photo of him in action while wearing a suit.”
“Yes really, and there was also a miniature railway there, although I’m not sure if he went on that.”
“Oh, well maybe he’d had a bad experience on one before. You know, like, maybe he fell off one and got his shoelace stuck in the carriage or something. I know that’d put me off ever going on one again.” I really was talking some rubbish today.
“Well after seeing that picture we ended up writing to him with an appeal to make crazy golf a recognized sport.”
“Seriously? Did you get a response?”
“We did, and he wished us the best of luck with our upcoming tournament. But sadly it got us no closer to raising the profile for crazy golf.”
Damn politicians. They really need to sort their priorities out.
Their efforts don’t just stop at government appeals though as Richard also runs a mini-golf consultancy business.
Now I’ll admit that when I first heard this I did actually stop and ask myself what a mini-golf consultant would actually do? I mean, do they visit a crazy golf course and assess its level of craziness on a scale of one to ten?
“There are no set regulations in crazy golf and so you could visit a number of courses and find that the specifications are all different. The size of the putting holes could all be different and there’s no consistency across courses.”
Richard then went on to explain how there had been a boom in crazy golf back in the 1980’s and then there was a lull that followed. But crazy golf is now experiencing a resurgence and is also finding its way towards the inner cities and to indoor venues.
“In many ways, crazy golf is becoming a trendy thing to do.” Emily exclaimed. “People often leave the office and play crazy golf as an after-work activity with their friends. They can eat food, drink beer, and have a laugh.”
“But the problem is that anybody can set up a crazy golf course and they’re not necessarily fans of the sport. All too often they focus on what looks good and what will grab people’s attention.”
And this is something I can understand because the thing that always grabs my attention with crazy golf is that the courses often look big, colourful, and like a lot of fun. It can feel like stepping into another world, like you’re teleported inside of a videogame.
“It’s all very well grabbing people’s attention and getting them onto the course, but what matters more than anything is in how the course plays; the playability.” Richard said.
This is what is often referred to as all-style-and-no-substance. It’s like having a videogame that is stunning to look at but handles terribly. Or like a movie that can have stunning visuals and a star-studded cast, yet does nothing to move you and leaves you feeling cold; a bit like The Revenant (and yes I know it won a shit ton of awards but I’ve watched it twice and felt the same way twice – I mean, come on, it was supposed to be a revenge movie in which I should care about the murder of DiCaprio’s son, but I actually cared more about Keanu Reeves getting revenge for the murder of his dog in John Wick – it was just a poor defenseless little thing, and it still breaks my heart – the bastards – but I digress).
“And so that’s where you guys come in?” I asked.
“Yes. We’re there for anybody that is looking to create a crazy golf course and can advise on the design of it. That way they end up with something that both looks good and plays well.”
“Because that’s what will keep people coming back.” Emily added. “Sometimes we’ll get approached by people with courses that are already up and running but which aren’t doing so well. We can help by showing them what changes they can make so as to increase their number of visitors and to keep them coming back.”
My initial ignorance was now completely extinguished and it now made complete sense to me. As a couple that both have backgrounds in sales and marketing, they’re like the power couple of the crazy golf world. And not only are Richard and Emily doing what they love, but they are also helping to raise the profile and quality of the sport so that everybody can benefit.
This is something that we can all be inspired by, because it’s not just about immersing themselves in the here and now and doing what they love; it is also about leaving a legacy.
It could be easy to balk at this, but let me ask you one question. Think about the one interest that you have which you love and care about more than any other. Well how would it feel if you could have an impact upon that very thing, to help preserve it, and to make it better for all future generations? Wouldn’t that be incredible?
Richard and Emily seemed to be anything but dull, and so I was intrigued as to how they managed to find themselves so actively involved with The Dull Men’s Club.
“Well just like you Elliot, we found it by chance. It was a completely random thing.” Richard said. “We got in touch with Leland and started swapping messages, and then it just grew from there.”
“And we also helped inspire Leland to create the 2017 DMC calendar.” Emily said proudly.
I was lucky enough to be given one of these calendars (actually I have two, but keep that to yourself) by Leland at the Preston event and sure enough, I can confirm that Richard and Emily could also be referred to as Mr. and Mrs. July.
“But what do you really think about the subject of dullness? I mean, do you consider your passion for crazy golf to be a dull thing?”
Emily responded quickly and with great passion.
“The way I see it is that very often people will turn their noses up or make fun of you for having a passion as particular as crazy golf. They might make jokes and laugh at you, even if you were only doing it for 15 minutes; yet that very same person wouldn’t bat an eyelid if you just sat on your backside watching TV and channel-hopping for 15 minutes.”
And that really was such a valid point to make. Try telling certain people that you spent an afternoon organizing your stamp collection, photographing a new roundabout, visiting another train station, or ironing your socks (guilty as charged); and you’re likely to hear one or two sniggers. Yet tell that very same person that you sat on the sofa hammering yet another Netflix box set and you’ll most likely get a nod of approval.
But who’s really got it best?
Far too many people don’t know their own minds and as such they fall foul of the ‘sheep’ mentality, following what they’re led to believe is the current ‘in’ thing without really stopping to question it. But the problem with following the current ‘in’ thing is that it very soon becomes an ‘out’ thing. Popular trends never last. But when you follow your own passions, you’ll always be following your ‘in’ thing, and as such it will always be current and is a trend that can last forever.
Not everybody is happy to just bumble along in life and to follow the set path that society creates for us, yet there’s absolutely no doubt that if you do follow the path of school, university, marriage, children, pets, mortgage, the white picket fence, and the two week all-inclusive holiday to Benidorm; nobody would ever question why you’ve taken that path. But if you follow an alternative and fail to tick any of those boxes then I absolutely guarantee you that it won’t be long until people question you as to why.
Why do I raise this point in this article? Because the irony of the situation is that I’ve met numerous people over the years that did follow the path that was expected of them and they ended up feeling trapped and miserable. When I asked them why they did it, their answer was ‘because that’s what everyone else does’.
So whether we’re talking about life choices or ‘dull’ interests, the point is that we shouldn’t ever ridicule another person for the path they choose because all that really matters is whether they’re doing what truly matters to them. And in the end, the only thing that will determine whether we make the right or wrong choice is our motivation for making them.
Listen to your inner calling. Understand who you are. Create your own path. Follow it unapologetically.
And don’t answer to anybody but yourself.
It was clear that our philosophies on life were very much aligned, but things had gotten a little deep and we agreed that it was the perfect time to go and have some fun.
We stood up from the table, walked outside into the sunshine, and made our way towards Manor Park. There was no club or ball hire available at this venue, but luckily for me, Richard and Emily had brought as much equipment as we’d need.
Picking my club was easy, but choosing which ball to use left me scratching my head. Because laid out in front of me was a huge array of different balls; the classic white dimpled ball, rubbery textures, smooth textures, solid balls, and oh hello, it was the squidgy brown ball that I first encountered in Preston.
“Oh hello again, I remember you!” I said, poking away at my spherical friend.
“They all have different characteristics.” Richard said. “It all depends upon what kind of hole you’re playing.”
But in all honesty I really didn’t quite understand how that would be the case and I thought it would simply be a case of hitting the ball and seeing where it went. With this in mind I decided to pick just one and stick with it throughout.
“Eenie, meenie, miney…” I said, pointing at each ball in turn before spotting one in particular. “Now this is the one for me!”
I picked up the ball and smiled. “The Finnish Heavy Gentleman. Now that sounds like a ball that will do the right thing.”
“Well it’s entirely up to you. But you might want to pick a ball based on its characteristics rather than its name?”
“No, no, that’s okay. The Finnish Heavy Gentleman sounds like a ball I can trust.” I said, smiling. “This is the one.”
“Okay you two. I’ll keep score.” Emily said, sitting down on the park bench.
“Are you ready?” Richard asked.
I gave the thumbs up.
The first hole began with a mock-canon that we had to hit the ball through. Richard went first and fired it through no problem, but then it was my turn.
I lined up my shot, took a couple of practice swings, and much to my surprise I also managed to fire the ball through. It was such a satisfying feeling and it made a great sound too.
We finished the first and second holes with two strokes each; everything was level and I was still feeling somewhat tense. But then things took an unexpected turn.
The third hole consisted of two steep humps with a tunnel through each. Now you could take a gamble and try to rocket your ball over the humps (which would most likely lead to the ball bouncing out of bounds), or you could take the safer route and aim to go through the tunnels.
We both opted for the latter, but the difference was that I got my ball through on the first attempt whereas Richard made a shock miss. At the end of the third hole, I was one stroke ahead.
This unexpected lead continued on the fourth hole as I found myself winning again by four strokes to three, meaning I was now two points in the lead.
We then achieved equal strokes for the next three holes, and so with only two holes to go I was still two points ahead. I began to feel like there could be an upset in store.
But it was on the eighth hole, the one that we’ll refer to as ‘The Snail’ where Richard’s experience brought him back level.
The Snail consisted of, unsurprisingly, a snail shaped obstacle which required the ball to be ricocheted around the brickwork several times before reaching the hole in the centre. Richard completed the hole in just two shots, whereas I ended up taking four after my ball flew out of bounds after bouncing up off the brickwork.
“So that’s where the type of ball makes the difference.” I conceded.
I’d paid the price for my ignorance and the Finnish Heavy Gentleman had come back to bite me on the ass (that sounds a little bit odd). Richard passed me his ball which was heavy and solid.
“This one is made of glass and so there’s very little bounce in it. It means I can hit it hard at the brickwork without it being able to bounce up off the ground.”
“Whereas mine had the bounce in it, and so…”
“…it caused it to bounce up off the brickwork. Exactly. The perfect ball here would actually be one that is solid and heavy but with a slightly bouncy edge to it.”
“Because that way the weight helps to keep it on the ground, but the slight bounciness allows it to ricochet around the brickwork but not up and over it.”
“You’ve got it!” Richard confirmed.
I smiled to myself, impressed by the fact that there is way more to crazy golf than I’d ever realized before. I was having a truly enjoyable time and Richard and Emily’s enthusiasm was rubbing off on me.
We then moved onto the final hole which consisted of a single turret-type structure with a tunnel running directly through the middle of it. A hole-in-one would be possible on this course but it would require a perfect shot with absolutely no rebounds at all. The run up to the turret was quite long and so any incorrect angles would be completely unforgiving. If you were to make just one mistake it could mean having to realign the ball with additional shots before taking another stab at the tunnel. It had the potential to be disastrous.
As Richard had won the previous hole it meant he had to go first, and after lining up the ball and taking a couple of practice swings, he took his shot. But much to our surprise, he missed. The ball struck the edge of the turret and missed the tunnel completely.
Richard kept his cool and eventually corrected his mistake, but in the end it took him five strokes to get the ball in the hole.
As we’d started the final obstacle on a level pegging, this now meant that all I had to do was complete the hole in less than five strokes.
I lined up the ball, took a practice swing, fired off my shot, and then…
I’d got my shot completely wrong and had hit the brickwork, missing the tunnel completely.
But the ball bounced back with enough distance to mean I had an almost identical angle at which to take the second shot.
I took a deep breath and struck the ball once more, taking it through the tunnel in one clean sweep. And now I was through to the other side with my ball stopping just inches from the hole.
If there’d been an upset early on in this first game then what was about to happen would put the crazy into crazy golf. Because with my next swing, my final swing of this first round, the ball fell sweetly into the hole.
I’d beaten the champion by two clean strokes.
Richard was very humble in his loss and shook my hand, congratulating me on my win. I was buzzing yet at the same time felt a little awkward that I was currently winning when I’d not played any crazy golf for years. It was Richard who was the champion.
“Beginners luck.” I said.
“Are you ready for the second round?” Richard asked.
The agreement had always been that we’d play two rounds and then the winner would be determined by the overall number of strokes. Therefore, although I’d won the first round this only meant that in reality I was just two points ahead at the mid-way point.
The game wasn’t over yet.
But the trend managed to continue during the first three holes of the second round.
We were back to the mock-canon hole and I began the round by winning this hole with three strokes to two.
The second hole saw Richard and I finish with three strokes apiece, but on the third hole I pulled further into the lead by putting the ball with three strokes to four.
I was really starting to get carried away, feeling like I had this in the bag; but at the same time I was also beginning to feel awkward that I was winning the game.
However the next two holes saw me begin to lose my lead as Richard beat me two strokes to three on each. I started to get nervous as my four stroke lead dropped to just two.
Over the next couple of holes I managed to draw one and win another which now had me back to three strokes up. But then I came face to face with my nemesis…
And the slimy bastard really did a number on me this time as I failed to learn from my first round failure.
Once again it was the choice of ball that really did me and I found myself bouncing out of bounds and getting all my angles wrong. I managed to drop a total of three strokes which now saw Richard and I completely level.
It was down to the last hole.
And here we were once again, both of us facing the turret. As the winner of the previous hole Richard once again stepped up to face the obstacle first.
And it started promising for me as Richard hit the wall once again, and then a second time. After firing the ball through the hole successfully on his third stroke he then sank the ball with his fourth.
The pressure was now on me and if I could drop the ball in less than four attempts then I’d be the winner.
Once again I started to see the front-page headlines as the newcomer beats the champion. It was David versus Goliath. Rocky versus Apollo Creed.
And so I stepped up in front of the turret and prepared to take my shot. The foot-and-a-half of brickwork appeared huge and all of a sudden it felt like I was standing in front of the great big icy wall in Game of Thrones. All I needed to do was get through the gate (I mean, tunnel) and sink the ball into the hole on the other side.
“This one’s for Ned Stark.” I whispered to myself.
“What was that?” Richard enquired.
“I said I need to putt this before it gets dark.” I lied, because my real statement would’ve sounded somewhat odd.
I took my shot and then gripped my fist.
“Come on, come on!” I encouraged as the ball seemed to move off and roll in slow motion. But despite all my will the ball bounced flatly off the wall.
“Shit!!” I cursed. But the angle wasn’t too bad and so I took another shot, this time pinging my ball off the corner edge of the tunnel and ricocheting it back towards where I started.
“Come on!” I willed myself, and then I took my shot but hit the wall once again.
“Bollocks!” I cried. And now the angle was terrible and I had to sacrifice another shot just to ensure that the ball was sitting directly in front of the tunnel.
My next shot saw the ball trickle through the tunnel and then come to a halt right next to the hole. Finally, and fatefully, I sank the ball into the hole with my sixth stroke.
I had lost the game by just two points.
“Congratulations Richard.” I said with my hand held out.
Richard took my hand and shook it firmly. “Cheers Elliot. It was a close one.”
Emily came over to join us and then declared that they had a little surprise to share with me before we said goodbye.
“All we need to do is head down to the river.”
What on earth were they planning?
“This is absolutely awesome!” I said, as I stood barefoot in the river with remote control in hand.
I whooped with excitement as I pushed the left stick fully forwards, and then the little green boat sped up and flew right past me.
“Can you believe that this is the first time I’ve played with a remote controlled boat in all my 40 years?” I shouted.
“Yes we can tell.” Richard returned with mock sarcasm.
But it was true. This was my first time ever! The closest thing I’d had to this was a remote controlled jeep that I owned as a child, but I accidentally killed that when I decided it would be fun to drive it down a set of stairs. I thought it would bounce and then drive, but instead it bounced and then broke.
I slammed the right stick, saw the boat whip around in a circle, and then get tangled up in the river-weeds.
“Damn it.” I said dejectedly, dropping the remote control against my legs. “I’ll get it.”
I waded over to get the boat and then looked up at Richard and Emily.
“It’s your turn.” I said. Richard’s face lit up.
After freeing the boat and passing the remote back to Richard, I remained paddling in the water, splashing around like a big kid.
And then I had an idea.
The river was split into two levels and there was a tree branch and numerous twigs lying between the two. If only I could free a few of these twigs and change the angles and then…
“Take a run up at this Richard.” I exclaimed.
Richard beamed with excitement as he reversed the boat back up and prepared to try to clear my ramp, shooting the boat from the upper tier and down to the water waiting below.
Emily rolled her eyes as I gave Richard the big thumbs up and hopped around from foot to foot. We were both just big children, yet even the actual children that were stood around looked at us with an element of embarrassment. We didn’t care though.
“Are you ready?” I shouted.
Everybody stopped to look.
“Here we go!” Richard returned, and then he slammed the stick forward.
The boat careered along the water, creating a gentle tsunami as it hurtled towards the makeshift ramp. The impressive bright green stunt boat was getting closer and closer towards making its career-defining moment. Five feet to go, then four, three, two, and then…
…the boat came to a sudden stop against the ramp; its rear propellers fighting pathetically against the water, shooting a miniature amount of spray a few millimeters into the air. After all the build-up, after all the tension, and after all the hype, it ended up being just one big letdown; just like Rocky 5.
“Well that was an anti-climax.” Richard said flatly.
“It’s been great meeting you Elliot.” Richard and Emily said, back at the car park.
“And you too, I’ve really had a great afternoon and it’s certainly reignited my interest in crazy golf.”
And that was true, because as I drove away from Glossop and back towards Derby I got thinking about new courses I could go and try out, and memories of the fun I’d had in years gone by started flooding back. I felt recharged by our time together.
All too often it’s easy to get caught up in the seriousness of day-to-day life and the responsibilities we have, and although that is an unavoidable part of being an adult, it’s important not to forget to have fun and to stay connected with our inner child.
Richard and Emily’s passion had been contagious and affirming, and once again the Dull Men’s Club continued to prove its sense of irony. Because my two new crazy golf loving friends are anything but dull. In fact, they’re as colourful as can be.
The next “Meeting The Dull Men of Great Britain” road-trip adventure will be coming to Lossul.com at the very earliest opportunity. If you’d like to be the first to be notified when it’s published, and if you’d like to be kept up to date with all the latest DMC Adventure news then please sign up to the Lossul.com newsletter mailing list by following this link. You are free to unsubscribe at any time.
What do you think about crazy golf? Do you appreciate the merits of different types of golf balls? Have you ever scored a hole in one? And have you ever been mocked by a snail made out of old bricks? Do you now feel a little differently about the subject of boredom and dullness? Are you going to let your inner dull-person out a little more? And is there anything that you’d like to ask which either myself or the readers could help answer? Please feel free to leave your comments below so we can get a conversation started.
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