The approach does nothing for you. A slip road off the A1, past a former McDonald's that became a business centre, now disused, past a concrete slab that used to be a petrol station. You pull into the car park wondering if you've taken a wrong turn. You haven't. But nothing about the arrival tells you that. The hall reveals itself. The golfer has other priorities. Then you walk onto the course. The magic at Stoke Rochford doesn't meet you at the gate. It reveals itself slowly
