Wimbledon

Two years ago, I had only been in London for a few days when I went to Wimbledon. Women's final from Murray Mound. I couldn't believe how British it all was. Yesterday I went again. And after two years here, I still found it incredibly British. And lovely. The picknick areas, the black cab that drove me from the station to the ground (for £ 2.50!), the queuing sytem, the people with centre court tickets dressing up, it was all the same and all so different from say the Rotterdam tournament. No need to get myself a copy of the queing guide this year though, as a mate who works in the changing rooms got me a ground pass (and drinks for that matter). It was sunny, we had champagne and strawberries and I was ready for a smashing final.

A smashing final it wasn't. The most excitement from the crowd could be heard whenever Rafa changed his shirt (nowhere near often enough, I may add). Quicker than a priest could strip a school boy, most of Murray Mound cleared after the last ball. But it is as much about the experience as it is about the tennis. And the experience was wonderful once more. One minus of the whole day: I should have hung around, judging from my mate's Facebrag a few hours after I left: "Having a Haagen Dazs with Rafa". Aaaaaaaaaaaaah!

Organised

I am not the most organised person in the world. Plane and concert tickets are about as much as I can handle in the organised department. And work if I am lucky. My friends are a bit better tho. Two weeks ago Chantal sent me the link for the ballot of the Leeds test. Monday nite I went out with Zoe, who had entered the Wimbledon ballot and asked if I wanted to come if she got tickets. And yesterday's Chantal's ex Mark, who I also consider a friend, emailed me to ask if I knew the Lord's ballot had opened. So....with a bit of luck Zoe gets me into Wimbledon, and I get some cricket tix. And Mark's mate Hodge is even so organised that he sent an email to the MCC (the cricket club that hosts the Lord's test match), quoting our order numbers, and asking if we could be sat together if we got tickets. Now that is organised. For that alone, I think we deserve to get tickets.

Wimbledon

Wow. Quite something. From the friendly guards on the way to the grounds from the 'Guide to queueing at Wimbledon' to the atmosphere on Henman Hill. Loved every minute of it. Saw Venus practice, was gutted that I missed Nadal practice, and watched some boring veteran tennis. And then it was off to HH for the ladies final. Zoe joined me after her band was done playing. Glass of pimms, chatting to an older American couple next to us and loads of sunshine (and sunburn, I have to add...). Great match, great place to watch it. Got to see the village of Wimbledon too, as we went to Zoe's parents, who live there, afterwards for a barbie. What a fun filled day!!

Anticipation

Seeing my very preggers friend Lynne. Wimbledon finals on Murray Mountain with Zoe. Big fat Sunday newspapers wíth the extras. Brick Lane. Marks and sparks underwear. Gloating about football. Pimms. No traffic jams (as in....no car). Borough Market. E.A.T. salads and sarnies. Shopping. Weddings to come home for which makes them extra special. No cat hairs (just kidding V&C!). Gloating about football. Owning an Oyster Card (bye bye strippenkaarten). Cricket at Lords. ITV and Sky Sports. Loads of new discoveries. The parks and the views. The markets. And had I mentioned gloating about football??