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clo_againOkay. I guess the best place to start is the beginning, though I'd also like to note something - the reason I didn't phone post? I sensibly printed out the instructions for phone posting to LJ before I left...
... and forgot to print out the list of numbers to call to do it. So first prize goes to
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clo for being smart. (Oh don't worry. We do far more So standing outside
wolves8's door at 6:20am on Friday, I was seriously questioning my sanity. We were catching a train down to London with nothing but a small tourist map, a change of socks and our wallets in hope that we'd get to Wimbledon. If this sounds crazy, then imagine how it felt after five (in wolves8's case, two and a half) hours sleep at 6:20am. I swear, the only thing that got me down those stairs was the thought of the taxi waiting impatiently at the end of the road, but outside it was starting to look sunny and warm and everything seemed better. Three or so hours later, sitting on a train that wasn't moving, in pouring rain, it seemed a little less better. We were informed by the driver - and this is an authentic British Rail excuse, since clearly in June they can't use the 'Leaves on the line!' one - that lightening had struck the overhead cables between Rugby and Nuneaton and we had to stop at every single signal point between the two. We were laughing but I think there was this tiny little voice at the back of our minds going "WTF are we doing?!! We are not going to get to Wimbledon!! Ahhh!! Thankfully it only delayed us about an hour, the rain stopped as we got to London and it was so hot as we stepped off the train that there was relief all round. Plus great hilarity at the insanity of Euston Station; there's all these officials driving round in little buggy-things and they beep their horns to make everyone leap out the way. Two almost crashed together as we were leaving our platform. In hindsight we probably should've stolen one to drive across London, but we'd decided on walking and walking we were going to do.
Now all you need to know to put our walk across London into perspective is that we arrived at Euston at around... 11:30am. We reached the field where we had to camp for the Wimbledon queue at around 7pm. Those hours in between we walked... and walked... and walked a little more (and stopped at two Starbucks'. Starbucks saved my life. I love you Starbucks.) To further put it into context, we did exactly the same journey via the Tube on the way back yesterday... in around half an hour.
You may be beginning to see why this trip can be considered a 'learning curve'.
However we worked out the Tube - sort of - we found a Starbucks the moment we stepped out after our first Tube trip onto Tottenham Court Road and having decided on the train that we really needed to acquire a tent, spotting an Argos next door to it was a relief. It was so *hot* too, really sticky and humid but anything was better than rain. We spent several minutes debating which tent to get and finally went for something that was described as a 'fishing shelter' - because we figured, one night, it looked like it packed up really small, it looked like it had enough room - and had the official title of 'Giant carp shelter' which we found hysterically funny. Carp shelter acquired, we set off down Oxford Road.
Oxford Road is a really fucking long road and yes, the profanity is needed because it is a really long road. We passed a Christian with a loudspeaker, declaring the wonders of God to the entire street which had me making snarky comments in-between laughter for a few minutes. Christians with loudspeakers. Yeah, we were definitely in London. Bought some London postcards which I promptly lost, I'm still not sure where. After we'd been walking for... must've been over an hour, considering we didn't get to Hyde Park at the other end until about half two, we started to think we were lost but it was a really straight road and it turned out we were going the right way after all. (Tube station signs are really helpful as landmarks.) It was a little tricky to actually get *into* Hyde Park, since we had to find and navigate a subway under the road but honestly, sitting under the trees and eating lunch - sandwiches, our second lot of sandwiches for the trip so far. We had a *lot* of sandwiches - was bliss. Kensington Road and our eventual Tube station destination of Southfields, finally looked to be attainable. We were happy, we had beaten London and we were going to get to Wimbledon early. All was good.
Then we got lost in Hyde Park.
Yes, it's a park. Yes, it's even a park with *signposts*. What they don't tell you is that when a signpost says 'Peter Pan statue' and points to your right, it may mean said statue is two miles away in the next park over. (We never did find that damn statue.) Paths crisscross and are deceptively straight, so once you're on one, it's hard to discover where you've gone wrong. We walked ten minutes in the wrong direction at the Princess Diana memorial - which is totally a glorified paddling pool, they even refer to it as a 'playground' on the map - stubbornly ignoring the London Eye rising up in front of us in the distance. The conversation went along the lines of (with me being the most sure of where Kensington "was"):
"Isn't that the London Eye?"
"It can't be the London Eye, we're walking in the opposite direction."
"...I really think that's the London Eye."
"Then they must've moved the goddamn thing, because I swear Kensington is in that direction."
"Sure?"
"Yes! They've moved it just to confuse us!!"
"Okay, we'll ignore it then."
We did exactly that for ten minutes until I stared at the map long enough to work out where we might've gone wrong and consulted an old lady with a bag of shopping on the assumption that anyone with a bag of groceries in London is probably a 'native'. She pointed us back in the direction we'd come.
Stupid Hyde Park. I still say they moved that bloody Eye.
There was utter relief on reaching Kensington Gardens, because we finally seemed to be getting somewhere and at this point we were getting tired. Then it started to rain on us. No problem, umbrellas. We were on a path in the right direction, we found the Broadwalk which was on the map, we were all good.
Then we got lost in Kensington Gardens.
Okay not lost as such, we did our favourite trick and turned the wrong way on the Broadwalk so we came out by Notting Hill Gate instead of on Kensington Road. We duly walked back through Kensington Gardens and laughed at the utter Englishness of a groundsman yelling at tourists to 'Get off the grass!' in the palace gardens. When we finally reached Kensington Road it was starting to rain, we'd been lost in parks for a good few hours and yes, my feet had reached the interesting point between aching and complete loss of feeling. I have never been happier than when we found a Starbucks at the top of Kensington High Street. While sitting down with a Caramel Macchiato - of course - we worked out we could catch the Tube from right next to us and get to Earl's Court and then Southfields - and Wimbledon - that way. Upon reaching the station, found a wonderful whiteboard notice, informing us we could catch the Tube all the way from there right through to Southfields, which we did. And it was wonderful. I love the London Underground. So much love. And then we got off at Southfields... to torrential rain and thousands of people blocking the pavements as they left Wimbledon with play suspended till the next day because of rain. We were waiting until the flow had died down a little under a convinient archway when...
... there was a thunderstorm. I kid you not. It didn't last long but by the time we'd walked through the rain down the road and an official in a poncho directed us to the field/car park where the queue was, I think we were both wondering what on earth we were going to do if it rained all night. Our tent wasn't exactly the most expensive of shelters; a good wind would probably blow it all the way to Trafalger Square. A man at the head of the queue directed us to the end, which surprisingly wasn't all that far away and told us we had to get queue cards from the stewards, to keep our place. We got 431 and 432, which I think was good. We got the last patch of ground by a blind bit of luck - the group next to us swapped, since they thought they could camp next to us on a bigger patch and then got directed across the field by stewards and we got to stay in our nice spot under the trees next to the temporary police station. Which made us feel safer and was also further ahead in the queue.
And then we tried to put our tent up.
I don't have to say anything really about the tent-putting up, except that we got a few amused comments from the policemen who were standing around with cups of coffee until they (finally) got so sick of watching us struggle that one of them came over to do it for us. And then failed dismally so his supervisor had to come and help him. We stood back and handed over poles and tent pegs and made noises of supreme gratitude. You would not *believe* how grateful we were to see that tent put up. I could've hugged those policemen. We pegged it down after they left and crawled inside to order pizza from the leaflets helpful people were handing out up and down the queue. We had no lights, no plates, no forks or knives and nothing to actually sit on except a plastic groundsheet but that was awesome pizza. I'm so glad I gave the delivery guy a tip, because he deserved it for bringing us that pizza. Wow. After pizza we were so tired - and it was 11pm - that we lay down to try and get some sleep... with no pillows, no sleeping bags, no mats, no *coats* - did I mention we were unprepared? I think we got about one, possibly two at a push, hours sleep each because we were up at five with paper boys going up and down outside yelling "Daily Mail! Get your Daily Mail!!" I had to turn over every half an hour or so because there were rocks underneath me and my legs kept going to sleep. *sighs* Yeah. We were crazy.
Woke up slowly, a trip to the public toilets across the field and a change of t-shirt & socks helped but nothing so much as the cappuccino I got from the coffee stall beside the queue. I swear, those stalls grew up overnight and disappeared as soon as the queue started moving at around 7am. Our carp shelter was quickly demolished at half six and thrown away because there was no way we were getting it into Wimbledon. (One bag per person, 12x12x16 inches I think.) On reaching the gate at the top of the field, a steward casually told us that we couldn't use debit cards to get in - we needed cash for the tickets. Cue me running full pelt five minutes back down the road to Southfields for a cash machine and pegging it *back* ten minutes to catch up to
wolves8 at our place in the queue. Only to find out that we had about another two hours of waiting and I could've walked. *cough*Learningcurve*cough* But we were in the queue, we were comparitively near the front and we had a Daily Telegraph which gave us the order of play.Now this is where I need to explain the reasoning behind us not seeing Andy's match. Because you see... we *could* have. Wimbleon has a very ordered system for queuees; you get a queue card with a number on it in case you need to move from the queue from any reason and you lose your place, then in the morning when you're moving slowly towards the gates, a guy walks down the queue wristbands of gold (Centre court), green (court one) and purple (court two). He asks you which court you want - which, unless you've been queuing for like two days already - is a choice between one and two and gives you the correct wristband to allow you to buy your ticket. We knew the order of play and we knew Andy was last on court one... and we knew we had to leave at 5:30pm to make sure we were back for our train. We also knew that the weather was grey, there were predicted showers and getting a full day of play in seemed doubtful.
wolves8 didn't really want to see Sharapova, neither us - emphatically in my case - wanted to see Venus' match, which were the first two matches on court one. I wanted to see Ferrero more, R wanted to see Davenport and I wanted to see Safina, which were the first two matches on court two. There was a good chance if we went for court one we'd end up sitting through two matches we weren't that keen on, only to never see Andy's match due to rain delays and having to leave before it started. Which is why when the steward offered us a choice between green and purple, we went for purple. Which yes, was a good choice considering we didn't have hindsight and rain seemed a certainty.It was a *little* harder to remember our reasoning when we were sitting literally yards from Andy's match and couldn't go in because we didn't have court one tickets. However that's later and I'm getting ahead of myself.
Once we had our wristbands - and once
wolves8 had phoned her parents to tell them that, uh, she was actually almost two hundred miles from where they thought she was (Lancaster), sitting on a pavement in London (hopefully she won't get murdered for the shock when she goes home tomorrow) - we moved pretty quickly and we were inside the 'dome' part of Wimbledon at 9:30am. They didn't open the way to the courts and liroa15 and scoobydumblonde and the 'rents. By the time we'd done that and got a drink and managed to not mug (do none-Brits say 'mug'? Means 'rob' or um... *wonders what an American equivalent would be* steal his stuff is the closest I can think of) a guy sitting next to us with a gold centre court wristband talking on his mobile about getting to see Federer, they'd opened the gates and we went off to wander round the courts until play started at 12pm.We checked out the practice courts where we couldn't really see anyone interesting - there were some ones you couldn't get close to and I *strongly* suspect that's where the top seeds warmed up - and hung around the competitors entrance for a while. We spotted Serena and then Karlovic who is so *tall*. I joked with the American lady next to me that although most people made us two feel small, Karlovic made *everyone* feel small. Sharapova who walked past us so casually that no one realised it was her for a few seconds until we spotted the ponytail and the yells of 'Maria!!' started. Wasn't quick enough to get a photo, dammit. The Williams' dad was hanging around signing autographs too. *rolls eyes* The Bryan brothers walked past and I think the Italian guy who Andy - ? - beat, Bricciali or however you spell his name. Massu walked past and I managed not to run away though he still scares me and there were a ton of juniors swarming around plus people I didn't recognise. After that we got bored, decided Roger wasn't going to appear and wandered off. Looked over
We had *awesome* court 2 tickets. Front row, literally *on* the court, in the middle so we could see both sides. Juanqui is adorable, though
wolves8 argued for Mayer until Juanqui started to win and she admitted he did have nice legs. I'm sorry if you were looking for us on camera, because we were right next to it (close enough to touch) so it wouldn't turn enough to pick us up - I hope it couldn't pick up any of our conversations because there were a few very weird ones. *grins*Live tennis though is just strange. There are no camera angles, no close ups, everyone's heads really DO go from side to side (watching the stand across from us was almost as entertaining as watching the match sometimes). You can spend as long as you like trying to work out what colour underwear the players are wearing - Juanqui blue, Mayer black and white patterned - the 'oooo's and 'aaaahhhh's are much louder and it's much harder to work out how the players are doing without commentators until you get into the match. Juanqui was really trying to get into it in the first set, yelling at himself in Spanish - the guy next to us was Spanish and kept giggling over the comments but I never got up the nerve to ask him what they meant - but once he settled in the second set, he was much quieter. (Though my god he grunts like *anything*.) Mayer didn't talk so much and once they got to the fourth set, you could see him just give up. Several funny moments when balls went into the crowd - one guy caught one falling from way up and got a round of applause, and then a second round of applause when he waved a spare shirt - yellow and green, if the colours mean anything to anyone - around. It was a good match to see, because you could see Juanqui get into as Mayer slowly stopped making the effort, and of course it was nice to see Juanqui win. Then it was a quick trip to
Poor Safina. She put her heart and soul into every point and that was exactly what the problem was. With every point she lost, you could see her get more frustrated - she yelled at herself in both Russian and once a 'c'mon!' in English - and more disheartened. Davenport on the other hand, stayed as cool as anything for most of the match - all she had to do pretty much was turn up and let Dinara beat herself.
wolves8 suggested to me about halfway through that Marat could be watching from somewhere and I spent the next five minutes scanning the people up in the lounge on top of Centre Court to see if I could see him. I saw someone in tennis gear who looked a lot like Feli but it was much too far away to be certain. We also had one of those conversations which I hope the camera didn't pick up, in which we concluded that Marat was in fact an aubergine. It made sense at the time. Sort of. :)We left after that match with the idea of seeing how long the queue was for resale tickets (as people leave, the barcodes on their tickets are scanned and this puts the tickets back into the system so they can be resold for £5 from the resale office up on Murray Mount) with the aim of possibly being lucky enough to get court 1 tickets and seeing Andy as well. I almost walked *into* Thomas Johansson being led towards the court by security guards for his match. It's extremely odd to almost walk into someone you recognise but have only ever seen on TV.
The queue for resale tickets was *huge* and we abandoned all idea of waiting in live for the next two hours, since by this point it was getting towards late afternoon and we had only a couple of hours before we had to leave. I think it was then, pushing through the crowds down the steps, that
wolves8 read a passing name tag, turned to me and said in a puzzled voice "John Roddick?" To which I blinked and replied "Um... Andy has a brother called John?" And yes, we had almost walked into Andy's brother. We saw him again later on coming out the competitor's entrance and the resemblence to Andy, just in the eyes and face, is very spooky. Unfortunately that's the closest we came to seeing Andy himself but it was pretty bizarre. Not entirely sure why we didn't head back for Johansson's match; I think Murray's match was just starting and we stayed to watch some of it on the big screen. The entire hill was just a solid mass of people - we had to sit at the very bottom, because we simply couldn't find a space - and it was very very cool to have what must've been a thousand plus people screaming with joy right along with you at every point Murray won. Sean Connery got a cheer every time the camera went to him too. We stayed I think for most of the first set and then it was getting really late, so we went back to the competitor's entrance in hopes of seeing Andy come out for his match only to realise after we'd been there a little while that his match had already started (We mourned greatly when we realised we could've watched it, if we'd risked going for court one tickets). We did spot Venus, Ancic, Andy's brother again, Grosjean I think, though we'd already caught a snippet of his match earlier, peering through the railing around his court - and Juanqui again. There was someone who... you know, I'm pretty damn sure it was Feli, looking at pictures of him. I suspected but wasn't sure if I had a confused mental image of him, but yeah, it was. We then walked back to court one to check out Andy's match on one of the small screens around the court but it was getting late and we had to leave about 4-4 in the third set, so I worried all the way home whether or not he'd won, though a two set lead made me happier.
Leaving was sad. :( Scanned our tickets in as we left and everything and caught the red bus back to Southfields. We'd already worked out that we could pretty much sit on the Tube all the way back to Euston, which is pretty much what we did. Did I mention I love the London Underground? We got back so quickly that we could've stayed to see the end of Andy's match I think but rain was ever-threatening and having seen the huge mass of people leaving after the rain yesterday, we really didn't want to get caught in it. At Euston it was pretty much a simple wait for our train to get in and then collapse into our seats for the ride home to Chester, where my 'rents picked up up. As we left, there was a sign painted on the wall in big letters; LONDON 179 MILES ----->. It was very strange to think we'd been those 179 miles that way just a few hours before.
So that was that. Wimbledon is unbelievable. Everything is in spotless condition and everything, absolutely everything is green and purple, right down to the purple-tinted windows and pretty much exclusively purple flowers, with the odd white one dotted here and there. Close up, the grass courts look more like a carpet, flat and so very green. We were so very lucky not to get rained on, though it threatened all day and I still can't get over how odd live tennis is to see. For the first set of Juanqui's match I couldn't quite conquer the feeling that I was watching it all on strange TV screen. Obviously going for court two tickets instead of one was frustrating when the rain our reasoning hinged upon never happened, but it was Wimbledon. It's so amazing and bizarre to think that I've been, that I've sat on
Well that was our Wimbledon trip and now I'm home for the summer. My room is an absolute disaster area of bags and it was very sad to leave my empty-and-spotless university room (it was even more frustrating to know I'll be moving back into the *exact* same room in three and a half months.) I'm still exhausted and a little dazed at the whole last few days. I don't think it's all quite sunk in yet.
Off to shower and wash my hair and generally just try to get my mind working again. Wimbledon. Dude, that was insane.
Clo
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Date: 2005-06-26 10:23 pm (UTC)I can't wait for TMS Cincy. Only 6 1/2 weeks to go!
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Date: 2005-06-26 10:42 pm (UTC)*bounces with glee* I love the hardcourt season over there. Andy tends to do well... which means finals with Roger!
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Date: 2005-06-26 10:28 pm (UTC)2. The underground is totally awesome and is the only subway system that I have been confident of which train I'm on and that I will not get lost (and I ride NYC subways fairly often)
3. And yes, people get mugged all the time in America ;D
4. My room is still a mess of bags and I left my university over a month ago... so good luck with that one ;D
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Date: 2005-06-26 10:45 pm (UTC)The Underground was superb. Once we worked it out, I fell in love with it. I'll be much happier next time I'm in London, knowing I can use it. :D
*giggles* Okay. Just checking.
*groans* Oh man... and my room was so beautifully tidy yesterday too. *sighs* Oh well. Bring on the mess! Nothing will get unpacked this week at least, not with Wimbledon on every day this week. ^__^
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Date: 2005-06-27 12:21 am (UTC)Yay for no tidying! I should probably get working on mine this week though, LOL. My mother's had enough.
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Date: 2005-06-27 12:54 am (UTC)Tidying?! Students don't tidy. Tidying is just a myth, right? (My mother's had enough already. She keeps making worried noises about it all but I'm just replying "Yeah. After the tennis." to everything she says.)
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Date: 2005-06-27 12:16 am (UTC)*snuggles you back some more*
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Date: 2005-06-27 01:11 am (UTC)Glad you had fun!!! One day (far off in the future but its gonna happen) I am so coming with you.......
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Date: 2005-06-27 02:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-27 03:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-27 04:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-27 04:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-27 03:42 pm (UTC)YAY! I want lots of people to come to Wimbledon with me! I was sad that I didn't see Rafa but there's always next year. :) And we really did. *snuggles back*
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Date: 2005-06-27 02:47 am (UTC)And blue underwear you say?
And you nearly walked into Johannson? Sounds like fun.
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Date: 2005-06-27 03:49 pm (UTC)Blue indeed. I spent several games staring in that area, just to make sure. *grins* All in the name of research you understand.
Seriously, had to jump out the way. It was definitely a fun moment. :D *giggles*
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Date: 2005-06-27 06:47 pm (UTC)*pets Juanqui* Your shorts are white, sweetie. Blue is probably not the best choice.
Yay!