CADDIE'S ROLE:Getting lost in the desert was a minor inconvenience in an otherwise fine week, writes COLIN BYRNE

MY RACE to Dubai was soon turned into a search for Dubai as my Indian taxi driver and I ground to a dusty halt somewhere in the desert of the United Arab Emirates last Monday morning.

The signs for the Dubai World Championship had been posted, but the makeshift barriers designed to lead the intrepid traveller somewhere in the direction of the Earth course at the Jumeirah Golf Estates had not been lifted.

There was gesticulation and remonstration as we left another isolated figure at an outpost of the Jumeirah Estates in a swirl of dust. Finally, after bouncing around off-road for a short while, we found ourselves on the newly laid road to the venue for the Race to Dubai, the Earth course.

Golf courses have been notoriously difficult to hone in on over the years in new destinations, but that was the best kept secret in the Middle East. It had a profile bigger than Christmas but as elusive as the abominable snowman.

Phone numbers just rang out when dialled to get directions to the biggest prize in golf, and there was no address for the Earth, Wind or Fire courses at Jumeirah Estates. I could visualise Lawrence of Arabia with a bevy of Bedouins having to resort to a compass to determine location.

The key, we found out the next day, was to ask for the cricket stadium, but redirect your driver by attempting to explain (language can be a barrier in Dubai) or simply grabbing the steering wheel and diverting back on track to “Earth”.

There was a warm greeting on arrival at the clubhouse. It was almost an admission by the hosts that you had overcome the toughest task of the week: finding the place. The temporary structure that was the clubhouse was as elaborate a fill-in building as I have seen, with a full locker-room and facilities that would put most others to shame. They even had a separate locker-room for the bagmen with accompanying names and national flags. Had us bagmen truly arrived on Earth, or was it a fanciful dream?

There was an air of expectation and an element of the unknown with this new addition to the European Tour. Formerly we had rounded off the effective season on the Costa Del Sol earlier in the month. Our location in the desert was another reminder of the global nature of the European Tour, having spent the last four weeks on fairways well beyond any imaginable European borders.

It seems like the more we travel to these foreign locations the more homogenised they become.

I never heard the call of the muezzin at prayer time even on Friday last, I could have counted the spectators in local garb on one hand. It was really “earth” from a western perspective with T-shirts, shorts and a tin of beer in hand.

There was a novel idea by the clothes sponsor of the event, Polo Ralph Lauren, to drape the caddies in their shirts with our player’s name, national flag and number in the Race to Dubai stitched to our arm. It was a welcome relief for us cads not to have to wear a bib, especially given that even for Dubai it was unseasonably hot and humid.

The majority of caddies were happy with the polo shirt scheme. Unfortunately, the clash of clothing issue may not have been thought through as carefully as it should have been. Come Thursday morning some of the manufacturers were insisting that their logoed shirts had to be worn by their contracted players’ caddies regardless of any Ralph Lauren arrangements.

The Greg Norman-designed Earth course was a topic of much conversation. It seemed like the initial reaction, as is the case with most new courses, was one of indifference. The Great White Shark himself landed on Earth last Tuesday to put his case for his creation.

It was built with the amateur in mind and therefore had very wide landing areas. The only irregularity with having it amateur-friendly was that almost all the greens were semi-blind, and therefore you were never really sure where your ball had come to rest: on the green, in one of the vast bunkers or down into a run-off area. People eventually get used to most things.

The opinions about the course were muted by the weekend and it seemed that everyone quite enjoyed the Shark’s creation.

We bagmen ended off our year in the elegant facility allotted to us with cream leather couches, fresh flowers and an extremely attentive staff. It was happy hour at the bar for the last day on Sunday in the “caddie-shack”.

We enjoyed an end-of-season sing-song and victory celebration combined for the winning looper, Billy Foster. We had had a tough time landing on earth, but with excellent hospitality and a general air of bonhomie we were all in the end happy to stay on Earth.