Mexico
New Country. New Course. Same Old Slice.
Caribbean-side golf south of Cancún, where the jungle and the resort corridor share a fairway.
The place
Riviera Cancun is Mexico as a golf sentence: humidity, limestone, and a landscape that does not look like California no matter how you hold your head. Playing outside the United States for the first time in this journal is less about the score and more about the air. Different birds. Different staff greetings. The same stubborn ball. Travel is the point. The course is the excuse that makes the passport feel useful.
“Different countries. Different fairways. Same suspicious short game.”
JW’s personal notes from the round will live here — the funny moment, the people, the 19th hole — without inventing what hasn’t been written yet.