BANYAN GOLF CLUB — PRIVATE DOSSIER / TIER OBSIDIAN ACCESS
Compiled for: Client 0047- / Status: Allergic to provincial boredom
Banyan Golf Club sits tucked behind manicured hedges and a guarded drive, a private enclave for those who’ve long since graduated from status-seeking to status-keeping. The fairways are emerald perfection, the clubhouse a sanctuary of polished mahogany and whisper-soft service. This is where Palm Beach’s “quiet money” congregates — corporate retirees, discreet philanthropists, and legacy families who have never needed to name-drop because their surnames already reside on hospital wings.
For the billionaire thrill-hunter, however, the tempo here is glacial. Conversation revolves around handicap scores, yacht maintenance, and grandchildren at prep school. There is no midnight champagne chaos, no couture-clad troublemakers plotting over Negronis, no delicious scandals whispered in powder rooms. For Private Guests-calibre appetites, the energy here risks veering into genteel purgatory.
Still, the facilities are faultless — the dining room executes Dover sole with Parisian precision, the wine cellar is stocked to seduce even the sternest Bordeaux snob, and the staff operate at a level of quiet, anticipatory efficiency that would make Claridge’s blush. But the truth remains: Banyan is a refuge, not an arena. It is curated for insulation, not stimulation.
Recommendation: For a week of serene retreat with impeccable greens and zero press risk, it is unmatched. For social combustion and billionaire mischief? You’d be better served slipping into somewhere with a later last call and a more dangerous guest list.
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