Daisy (Janie) making an exhibition of herself at the Newport club
Mercifully a less action-packed day. We took it easy in the morning and ambled back to the Newport Club via some shops that Janie wanted to see and the wharf area where we took some pictures.
A Streetcar Named Fisher doesn’t have the same ring to it as A Streetcar Named DesireA street car that defies descriptionThey didn’t lie to us – not a spare court in the whole club
With the World Championship over, the afternoon was a far less formal affair, with the main combatants pairing up with Newport pros Tony Hollins and Josh Smith to play an exhibition doubles for us.
The lunch once again was very good and it gave us a chance to chat with some of the members, not least Paul, Chris, Noel, Ellen, Kelsey and Sarah who made us feel very welcome. We even met Sarah’s mum that afternoon.
The informal atmosphere enabled us to view some of the tennis from each of the Newport vantage points, which was a nice bonus.
By the time we got home for a rest ahead of the tournament dinner there was not much time, but still we (I) had a short rest and then we Ubered it to the Newport Beach House for the dinner.
We chatted with the young Lumley’s for a while over cocktails and then sat at a table for the meal with some very interesting people, including Jonathan Pardee to Janie’s right and an architect-regular-combatant of Jonathan’s to my left.
After dinner, we chatted with Freddy, Judith (Freddy’s mum) and Rob Lake for a while, until it dawned on us that we were almost the last people left around!
If the cap Fitz…some beards simply defy description
This turned out to be a crazily busy day but very enjoyable.
With the weather now restored to dry…even borderline sunny, and thinking that we’d get no other chance for exercise, we took a long, photogenic cliff walk.
Here’s our route…except we cannot take the start of this route…
…traversing the island to the forty steps, then being re-routed as a small chunk of the rout just south of the forty steps is being repaired…
Salve Regina……hac lacrimarum valle
…but then walking the cliff route past The Breakers, as far as The Marbles, then returning via Bellevue Avenue.
Less than two hours but more than 90 minutes of walking. Lots of photos.
Then, quick shower and change and off to the Newport Casino Theatre where I was to deliver my “1875 And All That” talk.
Nigel (above) prepares to hand the baton to me…
My talk seemed to go down well. I heard no snoring, no walking out in disgust and people were polite enough to say that they had enjoyed it. Judith, Freddy’s mum, was especially effusive in her praise.
Judith, effusive.
Here’s the very paper I presented – I talked through a little more than half of this paper:
We enjoyed the whole afternoon of talks, although only I had remembered my jumper and Janie was feeling the cold more than me, so I let her use the jumper while I suffered in near silence about the cold. Near silence, I said.
As the weather had improved, Janie and I enquired about playing tennis on the grass, only to discover that the place was so very fully booked out on the Saturday that our only sensible slot was 17:00 that afternoon. We worked out that we could still see the museum, dash home to change, dash back, play an hour of lawn, dash back to change again and still get to the conference dinner on time. So we agreed to do that and I handed over an infeasible guest fee for an hour of lawn and a clutch of tennis balls.
Me & Jimmy Conners (above), Janie & Steffi Graf (below)We gave the museum and the hall of fame a solid but quick once over
The museum tour was very interesting – well laid out in the modern style and with more space available than we have at Lord’s for the cricket equivalent. The International Tennis Hall Of Fame gallery was a bit of a highlight. The opportunity to chat with some of the other speakers and attendees of the conference while milling around the gallery was also a highlight. Janie and I took it at fairly high speed though, to ensure that our timings would allow us to fit in the prized extra item of an hour of lawn.
Freddy grabbed us for this photo op. as we arrived courtside in our whites
We were back in our whites about 15 minutes ahead of our slot. Kim in the pro’s shop took pity on us and showed us to a court that we could use straight away. “Centre Court” (ie the middle one of three) at the side of the court tennis building. We very much enjoyed our hour, playing alongside a friendly bunch of regulars who made us feel very welcome. It was a great honour, privilege (and expense) to have been able to play on the grass at Newport. A big tick on the bucket list.
Exhausted, but unbowed, we returned to the apartment, showered and changed there, then on by Uber to the Stoneacre Brasserie, where we dined with the conference crowd.
Sitting nearest to me and Janie: Michael Wooldridge, Adam Inselbuch, Nigel a Brassard, Marc Lewinstein, and Marc’s dog. All made for excellent conversation apart from the dog, who was very well behaved such that I didn’t even notice their presence until the end of the meal.
