Streamsong was a somewhat perplexing experience. First, the good: the two golf courses were excellent. For Florida golf, they are off-the-charts good. The caddie program was strong. Also, the setting seemed almost pre-historic. I mean, this place is 30 miles from nowhere. The isolation is interesting.
Streamsong was developed by a phosphate mining company, on an old mining site. This made no sense to us - a mining company building a golf resort? - until a caddie told us that it would have cost a considerably amount to level the sand dunes (creating by excavation), a necessity due to environmental law. On the other hand, re-purposing the land for golf obviated this requirement, and the dunes made for a perfect design feature in an otherwise pancake-flat state.
All-in-all, a unique site, unlike any others I've seen in the golf world. Having said that, with this property and the two best design teams in the world, I had sky-high expectations for the golf. I expected 10, and I got 8. Not complaining, just sayin'. Some very cool holes, particularly the par-3s, but also some holes I'll forget about in a week. But that's getting very picky.
The rooms were also really nice, and well designed.
Now, the bad. I'll say up front that if I singled out any one of these things, I'd sound like a prima donna. And if it had only been one or two things, it truly wouldn't have been an issue. But it was lots of things. Our group started calling it the "punch list." For instance, the hotel and the golf facility are about a mile apart, and there never seemed to be a van there when you needed one. Often, it was a 15-minute wait. And why was the hotel a mile away? They built this place from scratch, after all. Seemed like a weird call.
The range was about a short golf cart ride from the golf clubhouse, and we waited 10 minutes for a ride. When we finished hitting balls, there was no ride in site, so we hoofed back. Good thing we weren't hustling to make a tee time. The range had no marked yardages, to boot.
The men's locker room had no amenities or toiletries, shy of sunscreen. You had to know some kind of secret to get the automatic faucets to work. The clubhouse had no view of the 18th holes, or any of either golf course, for that matter. They started from scratch, so how could they miss this? They forgot to return my roomate's laundry. The wifi was virtually unusable. After dinner one night at the golf house, we couldn't find a valet to get our car. After about ten minutes, we found the box where they had left our keys. Fortunately, it wasn't locked.
Prices for meals, etc., were seriously high. A shot of espresso was four bucks. They know you're stuck there (there's literally nowhere to go off-campus, unless you drive an hour-and-a-quarter to Tampa), so I guess they figure they can charge whatever.
Then there's the ambience. It is ultra-contemporary. The restaurants were sleekly modern with huge abstract murals, almost like eating at the Four Seasons. I didn't get it. It seemed out-of-context. More to the point, it was cold and uninviting. I think most guys away on a golf trip with their buddies want to wrap themselves in a cocoon for a few days. A cocoon this wasn't. For instance, there was no place you'd want to sit and play poker, so we didn't.
I could go on. We enjoyed ourselves, despite the metastasizing punch list. We were there for golf, after all, and the golf was good. We were all glad we went, but none of us found ourselves in a hurry to go back. read more