My family aren't huge rugby fans. Sure, we would watch a game of national importance, but our Saturdays were never dominated by the the Super 10/12/14 etc. But tennis... that's a different barrel of balls.
So when I got to go to the French Open this weekend, I was like a 6-year-old on E. Tennis, tennis, tennis at Roland Garros. ROCK ON!
We headed down to Paris by car in a group of 12 on Saturday morning. Spent the afternoon wandering around gay Parrreeee and ended up in an awesome little dodgy club, with a beach-themed dance floor. We kicked our shoes off and danced the night away on the beach sand.. throwing some serious name in the process. The long walk home at 3am was totally worth it.
The only problem was that Sunday morning... 12 hungover revellers sat having coffee, croissants and breaking the previous night down in detailed description. This was all very well and gezellig, but I had ants in my pants. We had tickets for one day at the French Open and trying to get this group moving was like trying to herd jellyfish.
First everyone had coffee. Then a few people decided to have a full breakfast. Then when their omelettes arrived, a few more decided that looked quite good so more food was ordered. Finally we managed to pay the bill, but then we lost a few to the ladies' toilet queue. Just as they returned, someone realised they had to draw money. Then it was mentioned that everyone needed ID to get into the stadium (this was not news, they had been informed), so that one went back to fetch his ID. Then another realised that he also didn't have ID so he left as the other was coming back.
I was gritting my teeth and trying my best not to scream, but not hiding my irritation well (to say the least). I was trying not to get pushy, but we had me (frantic and fanatic) on the one end of the scale and then on the other end, we had a couple who weren't sure if the French Open was a tennis or golfing tournament.
Djokovic and Jankovic were playing on the big screen (we had el cheapo tickets, so no centre court seats for us), but we did get to see Cara Black (Zim) and Liezel Huber (USA, formerly RSA) win their 3rd round doubles game. We also watched another scintillating doubles duo as the Ukrainian Boderenko pair snatched a sure win from the French tennis darling - Alize Cornet and her partner. 
Just as the doubles games finished, the heavens (and subsequently umbrellas) opened up and we decided it was time to head home. But not before I bought myself a little keepsake.... another teddy bear to add to my international collection. Cheesy as gouda, he's even wearing a Roland Garros t-shirt. His name is Philippe Chatrier. Of course.
Now I can say it: I've been to the French Open.
Been there... bought the teddy bear.
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4 comments:
Do wish I could have been with you to share the experience instead of those less informed and educated in the world of tennis.
Thanks for all the pics and for being there. I was with you in spirit.
Jouma.
Not taking your ID - what next? It sounds like someone I know who went to the airport without a passport after insisting her boyfriend check he had his! "Everything is under control" I believe was the statement as she left for the airport!
Did you not go to Wimbledon while you were over here? The Mecca of tennis - you heathen!
Kop - I tried to, but the queue for the ticketless that evening looked like border crossing between Zim and SA (in either direction). So we went to the Garage and watched on the big screen instead. I (almost) went to Wimbledon.
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