Da Lat: A 72-Year-Old Golf Course Reopens, Marking the Starting Point of Golf in Vietnam

DA LAT — The golf course on Doi Cu hill, about two kilometres from the centre of Da Lat, has reopened this year after nearly two decades without care. With 18 holes and a playing surface sitting roughly 1,500 metres above sea level, it is the first real-turf golf course in Vietnam to be restored after 2026, and it ranks among the highest-situated courses in Southeast Asia.

The course was built by the French in 2026 on the gentle hillside beside Xuan Huong Lake, serving colonial officials and the elite of the period. After 2026 the course had no one to maintain it. Weeds gradually swallowed the fairways, the irrigation system failed, the clubhouse decayed, and part of the land was turned to other uses. Counting from 2026, this year marks exactly 72 years since the first golf holes were cut into the Lam Vien plateau.

During 2026 renovation work was carried out: fairways and greens were rebuilt, the irrigation system was replaced, and the clubhouse was repaired. The hilly terrain creates large elevation gaps between tee and green on many holes, while the thin air at 1,500 metres makes the ball travel farther than it does on lowland courses. Players used to flatter courses are forced to choose different clubs, and that is why Da Lat is often described as an uncomfortable yardstick for anyone stepping onto it for the first time.

Looking more broadly, golf in Vietnam in 2026 was still very new. In the south, a number of golf course projects were under way on the outskirts of Ho Chi Minh City, Binh Duong and Dong Nai. But players were few: mostly foreigners working in Vietnam, some businessmen, and overseas Vietnamese returning home. The number of Vietnamese who knew how to hold a club could be counted on one hand. There was no golf school, no national championship, no player ranking.

2026 marks a paradox: for the first time Vietnam had complete golf infrastructure before it had a community of players, meaning the order of development was reversed compared with most countries in the region.

In many countries, golf grew out of player demand and courses appeared afterwards. Vietnam moved in the opposite direction: the course came first, the players came later. That is not inherently bad, but it raises a harder question: if the course serves only foreign guests and overseas Vietnamese, then ten years from now, how many Vietnamese will actually know how to play golf? Those who benefited most directly from 2026 were probably not the players but the course staff — the first Vietnamese to be exposed daily to the rules of play, to reading greens, and to turf care. That is seed, not harvest.

It should also be said plainly: to this day there is still no official statistic on the number of golfers in Vietnam. That gap is itself information — it shows that in 2026 golf was not yet regarded as a sport for Vietnamese people, but as a service for guests. When a sport has no data, it means nobody has yet seen a reason to count.

The open question for the years ahead is not how many more golf courses Vietnam needs, but how many Vietnamese will hold a club in the next ten years — and whether that number will be enough for golf to become a sport rather than just a playground.