Making no pre-plans, I and hubby set out to Wimbledon at 1 o’clock in the afternoon, expecting nothing but "No-Entry". Our satellite navigator vouched on taking not more than 30 minutes from our place to the venue; and as normal we took 1.5 hours to reach there. Impressed by the very helpful sign boards on parking, towards Wimbledon Lawn Tennis, my hubby pulled a Schumaker to land in one of the parking gallery entrance. “25 pounds please sir for parking” – Guard in the entrance dropped a bombshell on my hubby’s little sparrow heart. With cars lined behind, barrier in the front and guard with ticket by the side, my hubby, no way to escape threw a defeated look at me, eventually me handing over his wallet to him.
Grumbling at the treachery committed by the car parking authorities, my hubby vowed to extract every penny of £25 back, by spending as much time as possible in Wimbledon. We were directed to join a queue @3 o'clock and to our shock were told that it would take good 2 hours for us to reach the ticket counter. We carried no food or water, and with just 2 minute maggi noodles in stomach, we started feeling the real heat. Fuel on the fire - families behind and front of us has packed their pre-lunch, lunch, tea snacks, refreshments and dinner – all for that 2 hours queue journey. It took circa 45 minutes for us to move 200 feet in snails pace where a cute little volunteer gal gave a refreshing black-currant juice and aggravated the situation with her expert opinion that our journey would take another couple of hours. And then came the horrifying 10 minutes in our line up – sewage workers cleared the nearby toilets evoking FRAGRANCE, which nearly brought our small intestines out. The only consolation throughout the trek was a lady walking in front of us tripped and fell down twice :)))
At 5:15 pm, I was walking bare foot with my fancy shoes on hand, my hubby drank as much free black-currant juice as possible eventually started sneezing and with the family behind us moaning about shortage of food they brought, we were just half way through. Suddenly the movement in queue took its pace and I was dancing to put on my shoes back. We were able to see the light at the end of the tunnel – the ticket booth. Miraculously @5:30 we were in the ticket counter, purchased two “after 5” tickets and went inside. Obviously we were not allowed to visit Centre court and courts 1 and 2, where the good matches normally happen. So, I was routing to find a decent court, sit in an apt position to watch at least one full match and experience Wimbledon. However my hubby had very different plans. Suddenly I saw an urge in him to leave me in some place where I felt comfortable and take-on, on his own. Unable to fathom and no desire to question his intentions, I settled in Court 18 (which saw the iconic Isner Mahut ordeal few days before) in a very apt position to watch the forthcoming mens doubles.
While reserving a seat nearby and waiting for the match to commence, I (and others assembled in court 18) realised that one of the doubles guys, Philipp Petzschner was currently held up in a match against Rafa in centre court and doing good. It took sometime for the officials to re-schedule another match, a mixed doubles between Kas/King and Fleming/Borwell. Crowd slowly started filling in all the seats and I had to request the slot nearby for the apple of my eye. Grumpy old guard agreed to do so, provided, my hubby shows up in another 15 minutes. My hubby came back, full of zest, bragging on a game from Davenport/Bryan match. Also he acquired information that Sania Mirza, so-called Indian tennis ace (who never serves aces off-late) playing in court 12 and wished to see that match. To check the strength of the court he woke up again from his seat, only to grab grumpy old boy’s attention. The guard strictly warned that if my hubby leaves now, the seat is gone FOREVER. Clearly not happy with the verdict, my hubby settled in his place unwillingly, to watch couple of games in court 18. Promising a good match, he took me away from court 18 and walked me around Wimbledon letting me not to settle with any match. Court 12 was full, with people queuing outside to watch women’s doubles between Sania/Wozniacki and Black/Hantuchova. My hubby, to keep up his promise, directed me to witness Sania serving, from a small hole on the green blanket in security entrance and he eventually started doing the same.
Clearly infuriated by the proposal, I took-on to watch mixed doubles between Sa/ Zvonareva and Dlouhy/Benesova. It was an excellent ordeal where the women counterparts outplayed men in their own teams. Dlouhy’s game was littered with errors while Benesova was fantastic. She almost took the match till the second set single-handedly. And then Dlouhy, from nowhere, lifted his game way up, to finish third set with ease. In the middle of this match we saw Serena, Sania, Wozniacki, Black, Hantuchova all walking behind towards their locker rooms. We even saw Richard Williams (Serena and Venus’s dad) who was simple and alone, smoking. Of course, we did follow the tradition of collecting souvenirs in Wimbledon shop and brought the day to formal end.
Overall, it was a fantastic experience (missed to have strawberries and cream though) and at the end was left longing for another visit (may be next year). For me, it was made f(u)ntastic only by the presence of my hubby. :)))
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