The Melbourne Club

Disappointing Experience at Brockett Hall I was invited to play a round of golf at Brockett Hall, a venue I’d long been curious about given its rich and colourful history—particularly the tales of Charlie Brockett and his Ferraris ending up in the lake. With that backstory, and the allure of the Palmerston course, I arrived full of anticipation. Sadly, the experience was underwhelming from start to finish. From the moment we arrived, things started going downhill. Signage directed us to a drop-off area where I expected some kind of welcome or assistance. Instead, we were met by staff who appeared more interested in smoking than helping. When I asked where the clubhouse was or how to access our golf cart, the response was vague and unhelpful—“somewhere around the corner.” Not a great first impression. The clubhouse and pro shop were surprisingly small and lacked the service you’d expect from a venue of this supposed calibre. Staff seemed disinterested, and it felt like we were inconveniencing them just by turning up. On the course, the only bright spot was the starter—friendly, warm, and genuinely helpful. Unfortunately, the course itself didn’t live up to expectations. The Palmerston felt tired and poorly maintained. Paths were scruffy, the fairways lacked care, and the overall upkeep of the grounds was disappointing. For the price being charged, there are far better options locally—courses that are in better condition, offer a more enjoyable round, and provide far greater value. It’s a shame, because Brockett Hall clearly has the potential to be special. Right now, though, it’s falling far short. I can’t help but think Charlie Brockett would be dismayed at the current state of his former home.