I recently returned from my first hosting role with Golf Journeys, having been gifted the envious task of guiding twenty guests through the soul-stirring landscapes of South Africa. Our itinerary was a golfer’s dream: teeing off at premier courses and wandering through the lush, rolling vineyards of the Rainbow Nation’s finest wine regions. It is, as they say, a "tough gig," but someone has to do it. However, beneath the serenity of the fairways and the richness of the Pinotage, I walked away with a lesson that far outshines the scenery: it is the smallest gestures that carry the heaviest weight.

On our opening night, the atmosphere was a mixture of excitement and trepidation as our guests gathered to meet each other.  We were enjoying welcome drinks when an impromptu salsa class began in the hotel bar.  Without hesitation, excited guests, Michelle Harrison and Belinda Doff, joined the lesson. It set the scene, signalling that while golf was the centrepiece, we were on par for a memorable few weeks.

It occurred to me then that people rarely book these tours solely for the sport. For many, a journey across the world is a pleasant distraction from the complexities of home. Some are navigating health challenges, others are walking through the quiet halls of grief or simply seeking a reprieve from the relentless hum of daily existence. As a host, you realise that you aren't just managing tee times, you are managing expectations and emotions.

Let the competition begin!

On day one, nothing breaks the ice quite like a culinary challenge. In the heart of Cape Town, we traded golf clubs for kitchen knives, tasking our guests with crafting the perfect local curry.

Split into two teams, we chopped, sauteed, and seasoned our way toward the finish line. It was a fantastic afternoon that revealed a simple truth, whether they’re on the green or in the kitchen, these golfers have a healthy appetite for fun.

In the lead up to the tour, we established a WhatsApp group. It’s a logistical tool used to communicate essential details, like the precise hour to meet at the bar for a post-round sundowner. But in reality, it becomes the digital heartbeat of the group, a place for shared photos, inside jokes, and encouragement.

I soon realised that I had an extraordinary group, who were high on life.  So, I asked our guests to give our South African cohort a title. The winning entry, coined by the wonderful Viv Bamford, was the “PAR-TEE CREW 2026.” It was perfectly apt. This group was exuberant, adventurous, and possessed an "up-for-anything" attitude that transcended the scorecard.

Many Hats of a Host

A host’s wardrobe is full of invisible hats. One hour you are a logistics coordinator, the next an entertainment guru, and even a part-time psychologist. But perhaps the most vital role is that of the "fixer."

When Delta lost Jay Sorensen’s luggage, the stress was palpable. Two days without your belongings in a foreign country can sour even the most beautiful sunset. When the airline stopped responding and phones at the lost luggage counter rang out, we didn't wait for a system to fix itself. We drove to the airport, navigated the backrooms, and hunted that bag down ourselves. Seeing Jay’s relief as he changed into a fresh outfit for the evening was a reminder that "customer service" is often just a fancy word for empathy in action.

It goes both ways, these kind gestures.  Golf as we know can be frustrating, and the mind games can be crippling.  I seem to have a habit of standing on the tee box and fixating on the hazards. This was the case at the very picturesque but challenging course, De Zalze in Stellenbosch. It was the signature 9th hole.  A treacherous par-three, with water hazards along the front and right side of the green, and a bunker on the left to catch shots from players trying to avoid the water.  

My playing partner was Rhonda Steller, and her husband, Mark, was our voice of encouragement on these tricky holes.  He told me to pick a target, pretend the hazards were not there and trust in my club selection.

It paid off. I birdied the hole, and Mark captured it on camera. A small gesture, that became a big moment I will treasure forever.  For the remainder of the tour he was affectionately called, ‘Coach Steller.’

(Birdie dance on the 9th hole at De Zalze)

Let’s eat cake!

The pinnacle of the trip wasn't a hole-in-one or a vintage wine, it was a birthday cake. On our final night at Henry White’s restaurant, our overall winner, Greg Thorpe, also happened to be celebrating a birthday. The magic happened when the entire restaurant staff paused their service, walked into our private gathering, and sang with a soulfulness that filled the room.

It was a small thing, a song and a sway, but it was monumental in feeling. In that moment, twenty golf enthusiasts who had met just 10 days earlier, danced and sang together as a family. As I prepare for my upcoming tours, I carry these memories with me. I’ve learned that while the courses and the destinations are the main attraction, it’s the small, intentional gestures that stay with our guests long after the flight home.

‍