With dew glistening on manicured grass in the morning sun and the air disturbed only by the beating wings of butterflies and the hum of dragonflies, the spectacular view from the Greg Norman course was worthy of a superlative hole in one.

'There's wild boar as well as the snakes,' says the respected golf connoisseur, as we pass a sign depicting a bad-tempered serpent on a grand tour of the Omega World Cup venue.

The 60-year-old Canadian came out of retirement a year ago at the request of the course owners to oversee its growing tournament programme.

Wild boars foraging in Shenzhen? Virgin forests and the wing beat of wagtails and magpies, dew and blue skies in the land of satanic factories, smog and sweatshops? And are those wild banana plants and palms real or bulk bought at discount from the Southern China Materials Retail City located a few kilometres down the road?

Do not be deceived. The Dongguan addition to the Mission Hills complex is not an imitation front cover from the latest edition of the Jehovah's Witness newspaper, the Watchtower, nor a Walt Disney fantasia - even if this is China, the land of fakes and ambitions bigger than that other land of grandiosity, America.

The soft mountains covered in wild foliage, the roosting birds at sunset, the stone bridges and streams, flowering hydrangeas, bougainvilleas and other exotic plants and trees, lakes and ponds rippled by duck and carp - plus some of the most challenging, picturesque golf holes in Asia if not the world - is the vision of the Chu family, who believe golf and business are conjoined twins who shall dwell at the centre of the universe for eternity.

The prosperous golf-mad clan has saved a few hectares of Shenzhen and neighbouring Dongguan with the very stuff that appears to be turning the rest of the Special Economic Zone into an industrial Armageddon - large wads of freshly made cash.

The 'world's largest golf club' now has the 'world's largest clubhouse'.

And you can bet your rapidly devaluing bottom US dollar that not a cent has been spared in creating the nine-storey complex, replete with a 25.3-metre, dazzling white marble statue of the Buddhist goddess of mercy and compassion. Guanyin overlooks the lake and fairway on the 18th hole of the Olazabal course in a not dissimilar repose as Rio's Christ the Redeemer.

It would be no small wonder if a sizeable amount of resources hunted down by China to feed its materialism from across the world has ended up here.

The finest granite, marble and various woods make up the labyrinth of restaurants, locker rooms, museum, terraces and bars, media and meeting rooms, convention centre and six-star residential complexes.

'It looks like a Tesco's out-of-town hypermarket,' remarked one British visitor surveying the clubhouse from the tented village near the 18th.

A world-class spa staffed by Balinese and a shopping mall dedicated to golf products - a blitz of pastel textiles and diamond-chequered sweaters to send migraine sufferers scattering for the forest - make up the 1.5 billion yuan clubhouse.

If opulence and kitsch is not your golfing bag, then you'll find salvation in the latest five courses at Dongguan, including the Olazabal layout, which is hosting the World Cup for the next 12 years. It's an 800-million-yuan masterclass in landscaping and typography.

To play a part in the Chus' grand vision comes at a price. Full 12-course membership costs a one-off payment of 1.28 million yuan.

'Once the residential complex is built, the idea is to make the Dongguan club for the elite members only, and keep the Shenzhen and Mid Valley clubs for other members,' says Mission Hills PR official Julian Lau, during a tour of the original Shenzhen club, the roots of the Chus' golfing empire.

Here, most of the completed 1,800 palatial residential complexes - a mix of mansions and condos - nestle in the tree line.

Prices start at 15 million yuan and climb to 150 million yuan. Buyers can choose furnishings from an interior design catalogue and arrive with just a golf bag and suitcase. One four-bedroom detached home which the Post visited was awash in white marble and sparkling carpets complete with a white baby grand piano - an ideal pied a terre for Elton John types.

Another, six-bedroom spread with indoor and outdoor pool was decorated in Italian Renaissance style with busts of Apollo and Venus lining the grand staircase as a Luciano Pavarotti CD made the chandeliers quiver.

Lost amid the teak games, card and cigar rooms, stocked wine cellar, sauna and steam room, and walk-in wardrobes the size of a Soho studio, opulence quickly becomes a redundant word.

Outside on the peaceful terrace and across the fairway beyond, a dense tree line was bristling with the sound of birds roosting as the red, industrial-tinged sun set. Are the birds a recording? 'No! They're real!' exclaimed Lau. The Chus' method for success entails throwing enough money at the best golf course architects in the business, and then staging first-class tournaments with a bulging purse - all hosted in six-star surroundings. Then wait for word to get round.

They believe the high-ranking stars - the prize being Tiger Woods - will follow very soon. The European, US and Asian tour officials, and Omega and other sponsoring chiefs, wholeheartedly agree and are backing this part of China to soon stand shoulder to shoulder with the Augustas and St Andrews of the world.

The Dongguan clubhouse brings the Mission Hills complex to three sites. That's 12 courses and 216 holes.

Quite how the Chus managed to persuade the authorities to bulldoze a few hundred hectares of trees in Dongguan National Park will probably remain a secret.

Yet as environmentalists cry foul, it might prove to be that the family end up saving what's left of the countryside next door to Hong Kong. And with the rest of China drowning under a sea of concrete, golf courses might prove to be a lifeline thrown to the green belt.

The original Mission Hills Shenzhen complex, which opened 13 years ago with 18 holes and which played host to the 1995 World Cup, remains an oasis in an otherwise bleak industrial zone.

However, factories have crept up to its boundaries, and as they spew black smoke, they blight some of the once-magnificent views from the hill-top tee boxes.

Back at the untouched Dongguan courses, Dupont is taking calls, as the day's World Cup start was only 20 minutes away. He's responsible for ensuring the 2,500 young female caddies are doing what caddies do, and that the visitors and media are heading in the right direction.

'There's 36km of TV cable around the course,' he says as we round a bend onto a plaza where standing in military rows is a huge squad from the 1,000-strong Mission Hills security force undergoing inspection, their anti-personnel equipment replaced by 'quiet' signs.

'Believe me, they are all trained like the PLA,' says Dupont.

Indeed, a PLA garrison is resident at Mission Hills, says PR manager Tracy Robinson.

They stand saluting in white helmets and polished boots, their 'Mission Hills Security' badges proudly adorning their left arm. Another Guinness World Record perhaps for the Chus - the only golf club in the world to raise and retain a private army.

Even the most hardened communists would have to admit the socialist dream is dead after a round on one of these courses followed by a sundowner gin and tonic at one of the sumptuous pads, a third of which are lived in, a third bought for investment and a third used as holiday homes.

'We had 20,000-plus spectators through the gate today,' says Robinson, denying any had been bussed in.

Complimentary tickets went to 'state-owned' enterprises and to sponsors and VIPs, including the chief of police, she said.

Though this World Cup is not like the last in 1995 when players complained of spectators jabbering away on the greens, or strolling over bunkers and fairways during play and stealing balls and generally lowering the tone, there has been some grumbles of mobile phones going off and chatter.

On top of the 7,000 full-time employees, 'we had to draft in extra volunteers' to man the four-day tournament, says Lau.

When during one press conference new Mission Hills recruit Michael Chang, the tennis player, referred to owner Dr David Chu as 'Chairman Chu', it merely underscored how big a swing the family has in this SEZ.

And it is here, among the greens and lush fairways as the mainland's wealthy and expats club their way around the 15 square kilometres, that the ghost of Deng Xiaoping can be most keenly felt.

It was here after his 1992 southern tour that China's economic miracle broke ground and his 1984 mantra - 'to be rich is to be glorious' - became the most popular slogan among the entrepreneurial masses.

With a US$5 million prize up for grabs in the World Cup, playing golf in Shenzhen today is quite marvellous, too.

Rich man's game

To play a part in the creators' grand vision comes at a price.

It costs this many million yuan for a full 12-course membership at Mission Hills: 1.28