365 days of 35 is a blog where a young woman shares lessons, worries, random thoughts, stories, unsolicited advice, and hopes for the future as she lives through her 35th year.
Monday, June 25, 2012
DAY 334: STRAWBERRIES AND CREAM
Summer’s here and so are the strawberries and cream—well they’re available at Wimbledon in case you’re in the neighborhood. Two years ago I attended Wimbledon and got my strawberries and cream fix, in addition to a Pimm’s Cup or two. You’ll need that type of sustenance and more if you decide to wait in the queue; especially if London is in the middle of a heat wave and you opted to save money and not buy your tennis tickets before you flew across the pond.
My advice, spend the money. Yes, spend the money, $400 or $500 on Wimbledon tickets. Buy them online as soon as you know the dates you’ll be in London. Oh and travel with someone who’s willing to spend this kind of money on tickets. You’ll save time, get more sleep, not get as sunburned, be able to enjoy yourself, and actually see the tennis you want to see. I wished we’d done that instead of waking up at 4:30 a.m. (or earlier) to get on the tube in London and travel to Wimbledon, only to wait in a field outside of the All England Club from 6 a.m. to 10 a.m. And then once the gates opened and we finally made it to the turnstiles to pay our 25 pounds to enter the grounds, we had to wait (in the hot, hot sun—surprisingly England can get unbearable in June) until 1:30 p.m. to actually get onto a side court.
Let this serve as a tip or a reminder, you cannot get into a show court (Centre Court, Court 1 or Court 2, etc.) with a ticket you bought in the queue. Not gonna happen. It’s disappointing and more heartbreaking than anything when you hear the cheers for Rafael Nadal on any of those courts and you can’t even sneak a peek to see what he’s wearing that day. Additionally, Wimbledon has a strict one in, one out policy. Meaning: even if you’ve been waiting in line to get on a court for hours and you finally get on and get a seat, if you get thirsty, hungry or have to go to the bathroom and get up from your seat to leave, you just lost your seat and you won’t get it back. Never ever. They won’t let you save your seat for your friend or vice versa, even if she’s just going to get her strawberries with cream. If she leaves, she’s out. So essentially you must commit to that court, those players and your better be full in your tummy and have an empty bladder. If not, you’ll be on and off that court in no time. This is terribly annoying if you’ve just waited in line FOREVER to get on the court—trust me.
Back to the berries; they’re worth it. They’re smaller and cuter than the ones we get in the U.S. The cream doesn’t make them too heavy a snack. But I like any and all berries. I am a berry. Berry is my last name. My dad used to joke he was going to name me and my sister and Razz and Straw. Now wouldn’t that have been precious? Probably not, even though there’s a kid out there named Apple. But it was endearing and it got a laugh out of us every time.