On the Way to Wimbleton
A lovely breakfast eaten in Lyndsay's tiny yard, we were congratuating ourselves for an early start by 10 am. As Lyndsay's phone has not yet been turned in to lost and found, we returned to The Hummingbird Bakery to pick up a loaner phone and give her the opportunity to photo a mass of cakes and goodies. That was the last thing we accomplished until 6:40 pm.
We made the fatal mistake in London of taking a bus instead of the underground. There we were at the bus stop and it seemed to be quite close to the downtown. Of course, after a lengthy time, Lyndsay realized that we were going in the wrong direction. Construction seems to be going on everywhere concurrently, with two way streets reduced to one, open to the driver with the most guts. The bus driver rode his horn and I silently promised myself never to drive in this city (Lyndsay hasn't yet either). We had been advised to arrive at Wimbleton around 2 to have shorter lines, queues here, but had also planned a visit to the Victoria and Albert Museum. By the time we got to the V&A, we needed and enjoyed a leisurely panini at our first sidewalk cafe. We limited ourselves to the fashion and photography exhibits where underwear through the ages was a stitch and ventilated stays, a major step forward for women. An a cappela group was singing What the World Needs Now bringing smiles to all in such an astere setting.
Was everyone off to Wimbleton? Realize that we began this adventure with sore feet and frazzled nerves. One pound seemed a good price for the chance to avoid the 15 minute walk from the station and to ride an open-topped two-decker bus. Then we saw the queue on the sidewalk to our left as we sailed by. Boy, was this a great investment as we assumed we were being taken to a more interior entrance. We wound up walking half way back to the station to get to the end of the queue. Debate, debate - should we stay or go. By now it was apparent that we would benefit from the reduction (L16 to L10 for arrivals after 5 pm (that's the price to stand, obviously). We asked how long to expect and decided that two hours was a reasonalbe investment for a once in a lifetime opportunity. That was 4:05. It was all extremely orderly. We were given numbered Queue Cards so no one could jump in and a Queuing Etiquette manual. You may bring in one bottle of wine or two pints of beer per person. You may bring camping gear to queue up one hour after the previous day's play but must have it stored by 9:30 in the morning.
Wow we made it to the bridge overpass in 1 and 1/2 hours and were congratualing ourselves again. When we reached the other side, the queue reached out endlessly in front of us. The guards kept encouraging us, "you're almost there." Stiff upper lip and all that stuff. At 6:40 we entered and it was all worth it.
There are two major "stadiums" and 17 smaller courts. We watched 4 different sets of players on the smaller courts, being able to watch from immediately next to the court line. The ball girls and boys were like trained soldiers running, bending and gesturing in unison - tennis ballet. It was extremely civil and orderly and almost totally quiet throughout the park with the exception of groans and applause. There was absolutely no advertising. The food court booths were generic; the alchohol choices were champagne, Pimms Lemonade, and un-named drafts. We eventually were able to find seats at a females match and after regrouping, decided to do one final queue for the standing roam heaven to watch Selena Williams and Angela Haines. She is a massive woman - not tall, but incredibly muscular and stocky. As she made her comeback, the roars from the audience made all our suffering worthwhile. And then, out of all the thousands there, we ran into Lyndsay's boyfriend who patrols the upper class section (hundred pound seats). We ended our perfect evening sharing conversations and Pimms at the outdoor cafe. Walking back to the station, the queue was already forming for the next day. Home by 11:45.
A note on security:
I have never seen a police officer on foot since arriving in London. Occasionally a few pass on bikes. While we were advised that solid containers could not be brought into the stadium, no mention was made of the need for security. When we entered, our bags were searched, but what is so different than in the US, is the absence of fear and the absence of propaganda about how our government is working to protect us.
We made the fatal mistake in London of taking a bus instead of the underground. There we were at the bus stop and it seemed to be quite close to the downtown. Of course, after a lengthy time, Lyndsay realized that we were going in the wrong direction. Construction seems to be going on everywhere concurrently, with two way streets reduced to one, open to the driver with the most guts. The bus driver rode his horn and I silently promised myself never to drive in this city (Lyndsay hasn't yet either). We had been advised to arrive at Wimbleton around 2 to have shorter lines, queues here, but had also planned a visit to the Victoria and Albert Museum. By the time we got to the V&A, we needed and enjoyed a leisurely panini at our first sidewalk cafe. We limited ourselves to the fashion and photography exhibits where underwear through the ages was a stitch and ventilated stays, a major step forward for women. An a cappela group was singing What the World Needs Now bringing smiles to all in such an astere setting.
Was everyone off to Wimbleton? Realize that we began this adventure with sore feet and frazzled nerves. One pound seemed a good price for the chance to avoid the 15 minute walk from the station and to ride an open-topped two-decker bus. Then we saw the queue on the sidewalk to our left as we sailed by. Boy, was this a great investment as we assumed we were being taken to a more interior entrance. We wound up walking half way back to the station to get to the end of the queue. Debate, debate - should we stay or go. By now it was apparent that we would benefit from the reduction (L16 to L10 for arrivals after 5 pm (that's the price to stand, obviously). We asked how long to expect and decided that two hours was a reasonalbe investment for a once in a lifetime opportunity. That was 4:05. It was all extremely orderly. We were given numbered Queue Cards so no one could jump in and a Queuing Etiquette manual. You may bring in one bottle of wine or two pints of beer per person. You may bring camping gear to queue up one hour after the previous day's play but must have it stored by 9:30 in the morning.
Wow we made it to the bridge overpass in 1 and 1/2 hours and were congratualing ourselves again. When we reached the other side, the queue reached out endlessly in front of us. The guards kept encouraging us, "you're almost there." Stiff upper lip and all that stuff. At 6:40 we entered and it was all worth it.
There are two major "stadiums" and 17 smaller courts. We watched 4 different sets of players on the smaller courts, being able to watch from immediately next to the court line. The ball girls and boys were like trained soldiers running, bending and gesturing in unison - tennis ballet. It was extremely civil and orderly and almost totally quiet throughout the park with the exception of groans and applause. There was absolutely no advertising. The food court booths were generic; the alchohol choices were champagne, Pimms Lemonade, and un-named drafts. We eventually were able to find seats at a females match and after regrouping, decided to do one final queue for the standing roam heaven to watch Selena Williams and Angela Haines. She is a massive woman - not tall, but incredibly muscular and stocky. As she made her comeback, the roars from the audience made all our suffering worthwhile. And then, out of all the thousands there, we ran into Lyndsay's boyfriend who patrols the upper class section (hundred pound seats). We ended our perfect evening sharing conversations and Pimms at the outdoor cafe. Walking back to the station, the queue was already forming for the next day. Home by 11:45.
A note on security:
I have never seen a police officer on foot since arriving in London. Occasionally a few pass on bikes. While we were advised that solid containers could not be brought into the stadium, no mention was made of the need for security. When we entered, our bags were searched, but what is so different than in the US, is the absence of fear and the absence of propaganda about how our government is working to protect us.
posted by Karolyne Lucero, EdD at 12:22 AM
1 Comments:
What a day! I love the 'tennis shoes' picture :-) Years ago I went to Wimbledon with my family - the entire day was quite a memorable experience. Hope the rest of your trip involves less standing in line, but just as much excitement - you are making great memories!
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