If you've got it, flaunt it.
Playing crazy golf on a regular basis works wonders for your dress sense - and for your calf muscles, too.
Really quite depressing:
Autumn Crazy Golf!
The days are getting shorter, it's dark, it's cold, it's windy and whenever you go out, you get clear snot dripping from your nose which, however much you wipe, just won't go away: Yes, if you're tired of autumn, then you're tired of life.
Unless you come to our place and have a round of Autumn Crazy Golf. It's just as dreary here as anywhere else, but at least you get the chance to hit a few balls around and then con yourself into believing that you've done a bit of sport.
And, as of October, we've got mulled wine.
Doom and gloom abound on weekdays (except Tuesdays) from about 1:00 pm onwards, at weekends and on public holidays as of 11:00 am.
A few answers to a few questions.
- When are you shutting up shop for winter?
We're not. We're open (almost*) all year round. Of course, there's less time to play crazy golf in winter than there is in summer because it gets darker earlier, but we're open nonetheless. Except on Tuesdays.
* We're going to be on holiday in February 2020.
- Yes, but you don't open when the weather's bad, do you?
Yes we do. Come rain, shine, hurricane or snowstorm, we're open when we say we are. If the golf course is iced up, then we don't open it for safety reasons, but you can still have something to eat or drink at the hut. Except on Tuesdays.
- Yes, but is it worth your while opening up in winter?
Mind your own business.
- Do you sell chips?
- Why not? If I were you, I'd sell chips.
Well, let's be happy that we're us and you're you, then, shall we?
Listen, Sherlock: If you were us, you wouldn't sell chips. Because to sell chips, you'd have to do building work on the hut (ventilation systems, stuff like that), and you wouldn't be allowed to.
Unless you'd want to sell oven chips. But then nobody would buy them, because they taste like the bags they're sold in.
We no longer rent out football goals. The goals are still stored on the crazy golf course, but they don't belong to us anymore. They belong to football teams - and they don't rent them out, either.
We apologise to those of you who used to enjoy renting out the goals and who knew how to treat them properly (and, when it came to paying and bringing the goals back on time) treated us properly. But, believe us, you were in a minority.
As people have been bothering us on the phone quite a lot in the last few weeks:
Dogs are welcome on our golf course. However, please ensure that your pooches don't dig holes in the lawn, don't do plop and/or spew up on the holes (or anywhere else) and don't try to mount the obstacles or the other guests.
(These rules also apply to the dog-owners, of course.)
If you're on the look-out for the anti-present to end all anti-presents this Christmas, then you could do worse than buy one of our gift vouchers.
Brand-new, unbeatable value for money and really, really mediocre, these sort of postcard things let your lack of imagination run riot. You decide how many rounds of crazy golf and/or drinks you're prepared to fork out for, we write the number(s) in biro on the voucher, you give us money, we stamp it and that's it. In short, it's one of the most unromantic and thoughtless gestures you'll ever make.
Oh, and you get a free envelope as well.
In the last few days, the weather has been unsually mild. Which is why, the first weekend in March, we'll be reintroducing ice cream to our portfolio.
We're currently planning to negotiate terms with an exclusive Italian ice cream manufacturer based in a small village in Abruzzo. Now in its 27th generation, this family-run business creates each and every one of its treasures from the milk of hand-raised asses (oo-err, missus). The wafers are sculptured by the highly-skilled specialists at the in-house biscotteria.
In the likely event of these negotiations breaking down before they've started, we'll be resorting to Plan B: lovingly pre-packed ice cream straight from our state-of-the-art freezer.
To mark our first anniversary, we originally intended to take a look back at everything that’s happened in the last twelve months. To spew forth loads of anecdotes so tedious that we fall asleep just telling them. To wear out clichés that always come to the fore in celebratory speeches ("And then we said, 'Well if you don’t buy a ticket, you can’t win the raffle' and then we did this and then we did that and ... just shut up, will you"). And, of course, to thank our mums and dads, without whom none of this would have been possible.
Instead, we’d just like to say: Many thanks to everybody who visited and supported us in 2015.
We've got wood: You can now rent Kubb sets from us.
Originally from Scandinavia, this game isn’t fit to tie crazy golf’s shoelaces, of course, and it’s also highly complex: You throw wooden rods at small wooden blocks; at the end, you throw wooden rods at a big wooden block. Nonetheless, it’ll guarantee literally minutes of fun the whole day long.
Oh, and we’ve got a couple of footballs for hire as well. And, of course, the goals to go with them.
To reflect the cosmopolitan nature of crazy golf, we proudly present a new addition to our drinks list: Cider.
For those of you fortunate enough not to come from the deepest West Country backwaters: Cider is an alcoholic, apple-based beverage boasting a fresh, mischievous aroma with a smidgeon of lemon grass and bulrushes as well as a carefree, submissive after-taste redolent of muckspreaders and muddy gumboots. In short, the perfect complement to 18 holes of crazy golf.
Unless it’s served warm. Then it tastes like something no man, woman or child should ever experience.
As every schoolchild knows, the way to a crazy-golf player's heart is through their stomach. Which is why we've revamped our menu – with a new range of set meals.
With these delicacies, which don't so much bend the rules of nutritional science as snap them over their thigh and toss them over their shoulder with abandon, you can, as William Shakespeare may or may not have said, "stuff thy stuffin' face."
The mere thought of these three epicurean delights – low-protein, high-carb or a combination of the two – makes our mouths and our doctor's eyes water in equal measure.
After tarting up the kiosk, we didn't just have a bit of paint left over; we'd been bitten by the DIY bug. Which is why we decided to paint the inside walls of the lavatories as well.
Ladies who choose to powder their nose in our chamber can crouch back and enjoy a blue tone that's every bit as calming as the shimmering seas of the Caribbean, the Seychelles or the Severn Estuary.
Just one wall away, gentlemen can do their numbers in khaki-brown surroundings that exude just the right degree of masculinity. Why, if the khazis weren't as clean and aromatic as they are, you could be forgiven for thinking you're standing outside having a Jimmy Riddle in the bushes, just like everybody else.
27th February 2015
It's almost March. And March isn't winter, it's spring.
Which is why the kiosk now has .... ice cream!
We don't do 'proper' ice cream; we're better than that. We've got pre-packed ice cream. Cold, tasty, sweet, affordable and another adjective that I can't think of at the moment.
And that's not all. We've also got two new sets of tables and benches for our guests as well as a brand-new Weizenbier glass.
1st January 2015
The New Year's Eve party has been and gone. And what a party it was.
The wine, beer and coffee flowed well into mid-afternoon. The number of golfers almost reached double figures. The temperature of the mulled wine was gloriously unpredictable and the doughnuts wouldn't have been snapped up more quickly even if they hadn't been free. This party will remain indelibly etched in the memory of all who attended it for, quite literally, hours.
Minigolf im Stadtpark
Tel.: 0176 / 35 75 75 65
Weekdays: 1:00 pm
Weekends/public holidays: 11:00 am
Closed on Tuesdays.
€ 3.00 per person per round
How to get here:
Underground: Line U3 (yellow) to 'Borgweg (Stadtpark)'
Bus: 6, 179
When you leave the underground station, go left until you reach the crossroads. First cross Borgweg, then cross Südring.
In front of you, there's a path that goes a bit to the right. Walk up that for about 100 metres, then turn left. After a further 150 metres, you'll see a children's playground on the left. At the far end, there's a grubby white kiosk. That's us.