I was a slightly reluctant conscript to represent the MCC against Middlesex University Real Tennis Club (MURTC) today.
Much as I love playing real tennis, my weekend routine is to play modern tennis with Daisy in the morning and we had theatre tickets booked for the evening.
…and it was after all just down the road in Hendon on a long weekend…so I told the skipper that I would play only if needed.
I got the “yes, you are needed” message a couple of weeks before the match.
Still, I was selected to play the last (doubles) rubber, mid afternoon, so I thought there was no need to dispense with the traditional Boston Manor modern tennis fixture with Janie first thing.
Lawners at Boston Manor – court one of three
I played a cracking good game of lawners, though I say so myself. Janie later claimed that she let me win by a large margin to help build my confidence for the big match. I don’t think so.
Went home, showered, switched from pyjamas to whites and off to Middlesex University for lunch and the match. By the time I got there the MCC were one rubber down and while I was eating lunch we went 2-0 down with two rubbers to go.
Then we watched a very exciting game of doubles, which looked as though it would go MURTC’s way but ended up going MCC’s way.
“No pressure, but it’s all down to you two”, said one of my team mates, helpfully, as my partner and I went on court for the deciding rubber. Court two of three.
We’d never played with each other before and I have only played a handful of doubles at real tennis, so asked my partner to do the calling. He seemed reluctant to do that at first, but when I called a couple of times, reminding him that I really wasn’t sure whether to go for the ball on not, he said he’d call himself, which he started doing and I started to work out quite quickly what he wanted to play or leave.
The handicapping system did us some favours, as my limited doubles experience means that my doubles handicap lags behind that of my singles. On the other hand, the MURTC court is very different from that at Lord’s – much bouncier, it reminded me a bit of the one I tried in Manchester last autumn – click here, adding to the novelty of the situation. Yet, that extra bounce sometimes gives the player just a smidgen of extra time to adjust and hit a better shot – at my stage of real tennis, I rather like the extra bounce.
Anyway, the upshot of all that, I’m delighted to report, is that we won our rubber and thus the match was drawn. My partner and I were metaphorically carried aloft with garlands in our hair, before everyone said fond goodbyes and went their separate ways.
These real tennis matches are very enjoyable, friendly affairs. A good way of getting to know some of the MCC players better. Also a good way to meet some really interesting and pleasant people from other clubs, in this case MURTC.
No photos from our match but here is a little promo video from MURTC that they made only a few weeks ago, which gives a pretty good idea about the place, not least its friendly and welcoming atmosphere. You can even see a couple of the people I met in the still below – the professional and the male student (left of picture).
Our villa’s pool and spa sala, with a view of the Laguna beyond
Institutionalization…in a good way
Our original idea for this relaxation break holiday was perhaps to go to an Ayurvedic place, where we could have a healthy, restful and reasonably private retreat. But on exploring the options, we couldn’t find such a place with tennis courts, nor could we find an Ayurvedic place that would let us eat and drink like normal people.
So this choice, the Banyan Tree Spa Sanctuary in Phuket, seemed like an excellent compromise. Several tennis courts, several restaurants, our own pool villa and massage treatments thrown in as part of the deal.
We did end up working up our own sort-of routine, to such an extent that we have both become a bit institutionalized after nine whole days of it; but that is institutionalized in a good way.
Here is a description of a regular day, which was pretty much all of them.
We’d rise quite early (it gets light around 6:15/6:30) and take some coffee and fruit before playing tennis 8:00 to 9:00. Three excellent courts; our court was one of two AstroTurf (other brands of false grass are available) courts, very bouncy, very true. I’ll go into the tennis a bit more later.
Then back to our villa to shower and get ready for a late breakfast; we’d get down around 9:45/10:00; breakfast stops serving at 10:30, so that’s plenty of time to chow down. I’ll describe the breakfast in more detail later too.
Again back to the villa where we would probably find our cleaner, Jeap, still doing sterling work on our place, but she’d mostly be done. Then we’d have our villa to ourselves for several hours, during which time we’d read, sunbathe, swim, jacuzz, and/or possibly hide from the sun a while, possibly steam. Sometimes I gave the uke a go in this earlier part of the day. I had a good swim each day; 40 “lengths” which really meant 20 lengths and 20 diagonals, or put another way 10 circuits – probably the equivalent of about 25 lengths of my bodyworkswest club pool.
At 16:00 every day we had massage, together, in our massage sala at the end of the garden, which was an amazing luxury. Initially we tried different masseuses each day, but on day six we both had exceptionally good massages and the young women, Guitar and Nan, seemed to work especially well together as a team. (Almost all the Thai staff take an English name or nickname, some quite strange words as names to our ears. One was known as August; one was known as Peach.) Anyway, we arranged for Guitar (Janie) and Nan (me) to look after us for the rest of our stay, which seemed to please those two (who indeed are good friends) as much as it pleased us.
The treatment was 90 minutes, including a pre massage footbath ritual and a post massage relaxation with fruit and ginger tea.
We’d then enjoy the last of the light, perhaps on the terrace or from the villa, before enjoying the early part of the evening before dinner. Benjy the baritone ukulele often got his slot in that period.
Then shower again and dress for dinner. I describe the meals later in the piece too.
When we got back to our room after dinner, the evening service will have cleaned and tidied up pretty efficiently. Not only that, but each night they left a little present (mostly gimcrack to be honest) and a little treat, such as honey pots for steam cleansing or some kaffir lime and salts scrubs for the outside bath or some special relaxing tea for a bedtime drink. Janie particularly liked the night that they changed all the sheets and pillow cases into satin ones and put candles all around the bedroom. They also bedecked Tom-Tom and Ditsy-Dot, much to their delight.
Tom-Tom and Ditsy-Dot Being Spoiled, Our Lily Pond Beyond
We had specially requested one of a handful of recommended villas, one of which we got, 212. The next villa, 211, also on our list, had a tree/sewer problem when we first arrived and the couple in there had been relocated while the problem was fixed. The staff kept apologising to us for the noise, but in truth it was mostly so far away and short-lived we barely noticed.
Then by chance we were asked to share a buggy back to our villa on the fourth evening (strangely the only time we were asked to share throughout our stay) and we meet the nice German couple from 211 who have just moved back into their villa. The Frau asks if we have seen the iguana (by which she surely meant monitor lizard) which had been appearing in their garden since they returned. Naturally, Daisy wants to keep up with the Schmits and spends hours looking out for the iguana/monitor lizard the next day…and thereafter…all to no avail.
The GM of the hotel, Sriram Kailasam, came to see us at breakfast on our penultimate full day, so naturally Daisy complained about the absence of a monitor lizard in our garden. After all, 211 had seen one and our villas are supposed to have equivalent benefits.
The GM said that he had received complaints about the monitor lizards before, but always previously about their presence, not their absence. Indeed, he told us that one client could not be convinced that he hadn’t seen a crocodile.
Well, perhaps the GM fixed it for us, because on the very last day, ever so briefly, Monty The Monitor Lizard popped in to say hello and goodbye. He didn’t stay long enough for a photo, but that’s monitor lizards for you.
Wild life in our villa
Despite the rarity of the lizard visits, there was an abundance of wild life in our garden, especially frogs in our divine lily pond and a great many birds – some in search of the frogs, we feared.
I particularly liked one frog who seemed to wait up for us on the patio step and then do a performing leap when we got back from dinner. Janie saw him many times; I only cottoned on to him towards the end of our stay. But the amphibians, like the reptiles, seemed to have ticked a box for no publicity in the photo department.
Still, I’ll do a photo and video gallery of the bird life in our garden and the surrounding trees separately, hopefully in the coming days. For now, here is a link to the raw photo album on Flickr, one example photo…
Major Myna In Search Of Bugs
…plus a little list, in increasing rarity of visit order:
myna bird
zebra dove
greater coucal
blue kingfisher
swallow
striated heron
carrion crow
grey heron
Eating – Breakfast
The breakfast is an extraordinary spread. We saw some folk chowing down on vast quantities. We ate well in the morning without going mad.
There was always a juice of the day and we usually tried it. It would tend to be something like “pineapple and mint” or “pineapple, orange and strawberry”, but occasionally would be something too weird like “beetroot and carrot”. There were dozens of juices to choose from each day.
Janie would always make up a plate of tropical fruit for us to share. We’d pretty much always have the signature Bircher Muesli or a yogurt each.
I liked the noodle soup as a main, steering away from the traditional bacon, sausage etc. stuff of which there was loads. I soon tired of the fish, shrimp, chicken and beef balls, but picked up on Janie’s point when she said that she preferred noodle soups with slices of meat. Realising that there was always some sort of chicken or pork dish available (intended for rice, hash browns or fried noodles) I took to picking up a few slices (and some of its gravy) and thus enhancing a noodle soup which I had made up with just noodles and vegetables. Delight.
Janie soon migrated to the meat dishes with some rice or fried noodle and away from the soup altogether.
Eating – Dinners Chronology
First night – Thai food in the Saffron restaurant. Tried signature dishes, i.e. satays and fish cakes to start and a prawn pad thai noodle dish. Highlight though was a curried pork (crispy belly). As much rice as you like, choosing from four kinds in this restaurant. Also some nice rice cracker/thai papadom-type things, some sorbet between courses and little petits-fours at the end of the meal. A fruity Riesling to go with it. Excellent food – we’ll eat here several times I’m sure.
Second night – we fancied just simple food tonight so opted for a bar meal of crudites and wagyu burgers. Washed down with some Marquis de Riscal red (perhaps not so well suited to this climate). Slightly comedy (or tragedy) service for this simple meal in a very quiet bar, but a very nice duo playing and singing pleasant songs made up for it.
Third night – again avoiding the main restaurant buffet, we reverted to the Saffron for another splendid Thai meal. We ordered less this time having learnt our lesson the other night. A shrimp starter to share, followed by a peppered pork ribs dish and a duck curry, plus a plate of morning glory in oyster and garlic sauce. Some more of that fruity Riesling. All very delicious.
Fourth night – with the buffet shifted to the Thai restaurant tonight, we thought we’d shift to the main Waterfront restaurant. We opted for a simple meal of fried calamari to share, followed by grilled white snapper and mash (Daisy), seafood pasta (me) and spinach to share. Switched to a very flavoursome Sauvignon Blanc for the European food. Good meal.
Fifth night – we felt obliged to try one buffet, opting for the seafood one which is more in the style of a barbecue. Tried a few different things, including sushi, a seafood soup and then the barbecued shrimp, lobster and snapper. I also tried a little seafood and spinach lasagna – a bit bland compared with the pasta of the previous evening; indeed all of the food might be described as such in truth. Daisy tried a variety of deserts which didn’t please her all that much, apart from the ice cream and some home made chocolates. I made a small desert of just those highlights. I opted for the Sauvignon Blanc while Daisy opted for the Riesling that night. Great to try the variety of food the once, but the experience confirmed our view that we prefer to choose our own dishes and focus on a smaller quantity of finer food.
Sixth night – Saffron restaurant again. Mix up with our table resolved without pain and suffering. We tried signature dishes of sea bass with a light sweet chilli sauce and a barbecued chicken with a sort-of curry sauce (unexpectedly dry), preceded by a shrimp ball thing with a sweet chilli dip. Riesling for both of us. The least inspired of our Saffron meals so far, the dishes sounding more interesting than they proved to be.
Seventh night – Tre restaurant – right on the other side of the estate beyond the golf course where the double pool villas lie. We took a buggy to and from this one (normally we walk to the restaurant and merely buggy home). Really posh nosh, this restaurant. Lovely aspect too. The chef is mad on mushrooms and truffle oil, almost to a fault. We shared a starter of cheesy stuffed pasta with frothy cheesy sauce, followed by a halibut with langoustine dish for me and a very fancy chicken dish for Daisy. Pomme puree and a very fancy-pants salad to go with. Even more than the other restaurants we got lots of amuse-bouche and little extras action, including petits-fours even though we had no desert, no coffee and indeed barely room even for the delicate little sweets.
Eighth night – back to Saffron restaurant to try a slow cooked longhorn beef dish which closely resembled my “famous” Guangdongese braised beef dish, except this was with tenderloin rather than brisket. We also had the pork belly curry again which was again excellent. We started with a rather yummy prawn and green papaya salad to share. That Riesling is a perfect food match with this type of food so we stuck to it.
Ninth night – back to Tre. Janie loved the pasta starter so much last time we had it again. For mains, Janie had a John Dory dish with brioche and basque-style trimmings which looked spectacular. I had a sea bass dish with a herb thingie, which looked less inspiring but was equal to or even exceeded Janie’s John Dory. Riesling for Janie, Sauvignon Blanc for me.
Tenth night – back to Saffron for a reprise of some of our favourites; the satay starter, the duck curry, morning glory and the slow cooked pork ribs. The chef came out to see us for a chat; he didn’t seem the type to chat much, not in English anyway, but I think the GM tipped him off that we had been full of praise for his cooking. That Riesling for the last time, just a couple of glasses.
Weather forecasts in/for Phuket
We subsisted in unwarranted fear of poor weather for most of our stay, mostly because we looked at weather forecasts and thought we understood what they meant. What we hadn’t factored in was the very different use of symbols for Phuket compared with home. This difference seems to apply to any weather website, even “our own” such as the Met Office or the BBC. For example, this rain symbol…
…which was showing for several of our days, for Phuket seems to mean, “perhaps there’ll be a passing shower at some point in the day…or perhaps not, probably not, to be honest”, whereas for the UK that symbol would mean, “relentless gloom, at best dank, at worst bucketing down, guaranteed for the whole day.”
Again, several days showed this symbol…
…which for Phuket seems to mean, “perhaps there’ll be a passing thunderstorm at some stage today, but probably it will just be nice and sunny all day, just like it was yesterday and indeed almost every day”, whereas for the UK that symbol would mean, “SEVERE WEATHER WARNING: THUNDER AND LIGHTNING DANGER. DO NOT LEAVE HOME UNLESS IT IS ABSOLUTELY ESSENTIAL OR YOU WORK FOR EMERGENCY SERVICES.”
Tennis
Daisy picked up a rather untimely back injury just before we set off, so we were in some doubt whether she would be able to play. But we are pretty sure it is a piriformis strain, so stretching with due care on the tennis court, swimming and massage are a good prescription for this particular injury.
We had some good battles on the bouncy, skiddy AstroTurf surface provided. Most days we saw little if any other tennis activity. But as misfortune would have it, Day Two was a bit of a fiasco, as we got to the courts really late and suddenly the courts were packed. On the stroke of nine (indeed Janie swears they marched on early) a European couple turned up for our court, so that was that.
Day four, when I am one point away from a rare victory, the same European pair turn up about 8:45. Determined to send the message that we want our court for the full hour, I proceeded to “lose” several points, indeed a couple of games and take enough breaks between games to get close to the hour. Why this pair didn’t use another court is a mystery (I thought they might be German people, but later thought I heard them talking Italian). Anyway, they hung around obediently waiting for our court. Cometh the hour, I thought Janie might steal a draw as a result of my diversion, but I managed to finish the match off successfully at one minute to nine.
That was a rare win for me on Day Four. Forgetting the abandoned Day Two match, we played eight, of which Daisy won three, I won three and we drew twice. I found it very hard work on that surface, whereas it really suited Janie’s precision, skiddy style of play. I think she’d roll up a strip of that AstroTurf and take it with her everywhere if it were possible to do that. Mercifully it is not.
Outbound Journey, 11 February 2017
We whizzed through Heathrow Terminal 2 so had plenty of time to relax in the Air Canada lounge – we were flying Eva (a Taiwanese Airline) on an excellent Club deal.
It was a pleasant enough flight – we had pre-chosen our grub from an enhanced menu for those who pre-choose, so had a lobster tail and fish in a creamy sauce with mash – very nice. Also a rather interesting fish tortellini as our snack meal. Lie-downable seats meant that we both got a reasonable amount of sleep on the flight too.
The transfer at Bangkok and the short flight to Phuket was a bit of a rude awakening after the relative peace and luxury of the Eva flight. The business of going though immigration on arrival reminded me of our previous visit to Thailand in 2001; not by similarity but by contrast. On this occasion, the airport was heaving with people and we queued for what seemed like an eternity. Our previous “immigration” by road from Laos was a sleepy, deserted border post – so deserted early in the morning we had to break the border to get in to Thailand and had a devil of a job explaining ourselves on exit.
The short internal flight was a packed, smelly noisy plane; the mechanical noises from the undercarriage were positively alarming. In particular, the big Russian “gentleman” with Soviet-style territorial ambitions sitting next to me was no fun. Then the chaos of Phuket airport on exit – somehow we did manage to find our agent’s courier (“Coco The Clown”, I named him) and off we went in the direction of tranquillity.
We got to the Banyan Tree around 21:00, which just about gave us time for some basic orientation, transfer to our lovely spa pool villa and back to the main hotel Saffron restaurant for a delicious Thai meal before bed.
Return Journey, 22 February 2017
I shall write up the return journey separately in the coming days, as I think the world needs some time to get used to the idea of seeing photographs of me looking like Kung Fu Panda at 30,000 feet.
A little bit of tennis history, Querrey v Djokovic
Janie seems to have a knack with the Wimbledon ballot; two years in the last three she has been allocated seats for No.1 Court on the first Friday of the tournament. Even last year we ended up with a couple of last minute, random tickets for No.2 Court on the first Wednesday.
But while Janie’s balloting-winning skills are beyond reproach, her ability to control the weather on the days of our Wimbledon visits is decidedly dodgy.
This time, we were a little disappointed when the tickets arrived to find that we were almost right at the back of No.1 Court in Row Y. However, with iffy weather on the cards, we were pleased to discover that we would be well and truly under cover back there. In any case, “right at the back” is not all that far back on that court.
I was on picnic duties for today, although Janie had so over-provided the previous weekend that many of the major contents emanated from her. Cray fish in dill mayonnaise (which I placed inside Paul Rhodes’s brioche rolls), mini-wiches with Cornish Yarg and sesame bagels stuffed with a wonderful mature cheddar. A fruity Riesling earlier in the day and a Californian Pinot Noir, half of which made it home afterwards. Top picnic, though I say so myself.
Why were we picinicing there? Oh yes, tennis.
First up, after a short rain delay before the match even started, was Venus Williams v Daria Kasatkina. Daria is only 19 but already looks every bit a star in the making. She coped with the dual problems of Venus and the rain extremely well – this article – click here – reviews the match comprehensively. The rain delay on match point was a first for us and also was, apparently, a first even for the uber-experienced Venus. Even ignoring the rain delays, this was a very long but fascinating match.
Then, Sam Querrey v Novak Djokovic. About four games into the first set, I said to Janie, “if I were a creature from outer space who had simply been told that one of these two players was far and away the best in the world, I’d be thinking that player must be Querrey just at the moment”. Janie agreed.
The first set was a real tussle, which Querrey won. The second was a rout by Querrey. We thought we might witness a major upset, but the heavens opened within moments of Querrey winning the second set and that was it for the day.
Here’s the BBC report on the whole match – click here. I got to see the denouement on the TV the following day, as the continuing rain meant that the fellas didn’t get back onto the court until late afternoon. A major upset and we had witnessed much, indeed most of it.
One of the reasons we booked Mukul was the promise of two recently-built tennis courts on site. (Another reason was the promise that Mukul is the best hotel in Nicaragua just now.) We are keen to play tennis during the restful part of our holiday, otherwise there is the risk of unmitigated sloth.
The courts were indeed clearly new and in excellent condition. They are some distance from the hotel; presumably part of the grand design for the posh villas as well as the hotel resort. But this is not the first time we have stayed at a resort hotel that transports you a mile or more to the courts. That side of things worked excellently well, thanks mostly to the good offices of majordomo Grinhilde (an unlikely name for a Nicaraguan – “my father spent some time in Germany and returned to Nicaragua liking that name”) and driver Juan aka Ponce.
Ponce had been the land vehicle driver for the rescue mission on 16th, so we had formed some kinship from that. Ponce is from the Mosquito (Miskito) coast and made very interesting conversation with us. On arrival at the courts the first time, I asked him, “which court is best?” and he answered immediately, “that one”, (the easternmost court), “the wind affects it less.” Good advice, as the wind was a major factor at this time of year.
We played early morning (starting between 7:15 and 7:30 for about an hour) five of the six mornings we had at Mukul. Just one morning Janie felt too tired, so we rested on a while longer and swam in the main pool before breakfast instead.
The sun didn’t really affect one end more than the other – the courts pretty much face north-south. But on several days the wind really did assist one end. I took the adverse end, which was really hard work but on the other hand the wind assistance required Janie to control the ball exceptionally well.
The surface was incredibly bouncy. It reminded me of indoor carpet courts I played on at Queens a few times, many years ago. You get full value plus for your top spin and lob shots. None of this bounce and wind would make for a great professional game, but it does make for good fun tennis, which is fine for us. Poison for my nascent real tennis career, but heck, who cares, we were on holiday.
Frederico told us that Jim Courier often stays nearby, which is nice, but I can’t imagine that any of Jim’s shots would stay inside the netting with that exaggerated bounce. Mercifully, Jim didn’t stop by in the early morning to watch Ged and Daisy prancing around the court in the high winds.
By Wknight94 – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=1753530
Indeed no-one was to be seen at those courts early morning, although it was the only time that we could possibly have given it a go, given the heat of the day and the early darkness.
But basically we loved the tennis there. On our last proper morning, the wind dropped for most of the game, but, perhaps surprisingly, my form dropped along with the wind. It was all I could do to clamber back to even-stevens at 5-5 deuce, at which point we agreed to call it an honourable draw, as we often do.
We were having a pretty shitty Christmas break, with mum in hospital since just before Crimble (and, as it turned out, never to come out). Our main respite had been some reasonable weather that at least enabled us to play tennis in the mornings, as reported on Facebook at the time – see below:
At the end of that long weekend (the Sunday I think) we went to the Park Royal Vue to see Paddington- click here for the IMDb resource on that movie. Janie warned me that I would probably blub at the scene where Paddington loses his old uncle and moves on from his family – she was right as usual.
Still, lots of laughs and fun in Paddington. I loved the way that there was a calypso band on every street corner in this version of Notting Hill, in contrast with the ubiquitously pale look of the neighbourhood in the eponymous movie.
Yet we craved some high culture and had been eyeing up the Allen Jones as high on our list for the holiday season, so we took some respite on New Year’s Day and went to see the Allen Jones in the afternoon.
This was a really super day. When we were applying for tickets, Janie and I debated long and hard about which tennis slot to attempt. I favoured No. 1 Court, as I thought it would improve our chance of success. But Janie’s theory was that she was only interested in Centre Court, as it is the only covered court and she wanted to be assured of play if we did secure tickets.
Thus we applied for quarter finals day on centre court – thus we were successful in our application.
Janie took responsibility for the sumptuous picnic and I planned the journey. We set off good and early to avoid the worst of the crowds and take in some atmosphere on arrival. I guess it was a strange mix of regular Wimbledon and London 2012 atmosphere for this tournament – but that’s “strange in a good way”.
We were treated to four quarter-finals; two women’s singles and two men’s singles:
the first match we saw was Victoria Azarenka beating Angelique Kerber, the last match of the day we saw Maria Sharapova beat Kim Clijsters – click here for women’s singles details;
between those matches, in the men’s singles, we saw Roger Federer beat John Isner and then Novak Djokovic beat Jo-Wilfried Tsonga – click here for the men’s singles details.
It was a fabulous day of tennis.
A rather strange American man was sitting next to us, who kept saying “that’s amazing…that’s incredible” whenever one of the players won a point with a good shot or when there was a good rally…which really was quite often. It turned out that the man is a huge tennis fan and goes a lot, so he shouldn’t be quite so continuously astounded by good play in my view, but there you are.
Janie realised that she had a real taste for Wimbledon, so picked up instructions for applying for forms in the Wimbledon ballot, which she has done each year since 2012 with (at the time of writing, in 2016) remarkable success, getting good No. 1 Court tickets two years out of those four. A small but significant Olympic legacy for us.
One of the reasons we booked the Moulin d’Hauterive was because it boasted a tennis court amongst its amenities.
Janie and I have travelled far and we have travelled wide. Our tennis rackets and balls have travelled long distances with us. Occasionally the tennis courts we find at the hotels are not quite up to the standards we are used to at home, not that we have always played on very high standards of surfaces at home either. We are leisure players.
For example, we enjoyed the tennis court at the Zenobia Cham Palace Hotel in Palmyra in 1997 despite its idiosyncrasies – I don’t suppose it is up to much any more of course – point is, we make allowances.
But the tennis court at Moulin d’Hauterive almost defies description. Had the Burgundy region recently suffered a major war or a series of natural disasters of the earthquake and hurricane variety, the cracked, moonscape-like surface and the intermittence of the perimeter netting might have been explicable.
But this didn’t look like the result of a recent disaster. It looked like decades of neglectful, distressed gentility.
On challenge, the rather haughty proprietor’s son (who had sniffly advised us, when I asked about choosing wine to go with the specific food we had ordered, simply that the more expensive bottles were always the better ones) mumbled indifferently that the court was indeed due for some repairs soon.
We played each day. It is difficult to describe the game we played as tennis in the modern sense, but it was some form of a game with rackets and balls, plus we used the tennis scoring system. But in truth it was more of a range hitting game, where we aimed for the smooth if we wanted to perpetuate a rally or aimed for the rough if we wanted a laugh.
Memorable is probably the best adjective for it.
I note that hotel Moulin d’Hauterive no longer boasts the tennis court amongst its amenities. What a pity.
This was a bit of an unusual week away for us. Kim had been persistently asking us to join her and friends in St Tropez for her birthday for a few years. We’d insisted that we didn’t think that St Tropez would be “our thing”. She wondered how we could judge such a thing without giving it a try.
So, our cunning plan to please everyone including ourselves was to arrange a fly-drive week in the South of France, initially doing our own thing for a few days…
and then joining up with Kim, Micky and others in “San-trop”.
Auntie Janet at Ultimate Travel helped us to construct our itinerary but I cannot find any papers from her, only this quote from her e-mail/invoice:
French Expressions holidays including flights;
Automatic car hire throughout and three nights accommodation
in a Junior Suite at L’Auberge du Chateau de Berne on a bed
and breakfast basis
So, in brief, we flew to Nice and picked up a car for our week in France. We stayed three nights at the delightful Chateau de Berne Hotel and Spa.
We did a bit of touring…
…together with a lot of resting, wining and dining; three nights there. Lovely sun deck for reading; great to try their wines and we even played some ping pong (Daisy’s favourite, because she normally wins).
…where Kim and Micky regularly stay. We arrived the day before the others, so played tennis and then ate at a Vietnamese restaurant named Bahn Hoi, recommended by Anthea. Very nice but also very pricey. That’s St Tropez for you.
Next day we have an early morning snoop around the market…
…then finally meet up with Kim and Micky for lunch at Tahiti that day.
We worked off the lunch on the tennis court. Dinner that evening is at Villa Romana, with Robert, Fiza and their son/girlfriend too. A very fashionable place but it is heaving and displeases me; food ordinary apart from the price:
Next day, we played tennis in the morning. Indeed, we played tennis at Tahiti on the tennis court there a few times. Not the best surface we have ever played on, but far from the worst. As our short stay went on, we found it harder and harder to play tennis for an hour; a cautionary tale for all of us.
Same gang as last night for lunch at Tahiti; then after siesta an evening at a St Tropez nightclub, Stefano Forever.
I was dreading this one but actually it was more fun. As it was pre-season, the show was a tryout and we were the only guests, so we got to have a lot of fun as audience participation could only be us…
…and we were the only possible invitees to the after show party…
…Janie even tried her hand at pole dancing…of sorts…
…she got a wee bit better at it remarkably quickly when she actually took up pole dancing some 10 years later:
…but I digress.
The final day was Kim’s actual birthday. Despite the excesses of the night before, lunch between the four of us (the Robert Anthony family, perhaps knowing the score, made themselves scarce that lunchtime) was a boozy and celebratory affair:
Indeed, after siesta Janie swore that she couldn’t make it to the arranged dinner for six of us (son and girlfriend were gone by now) at L’Auberge de Maures, but then changed her mind. In this photo, I look almost as rough as I felt.
In truth, our view that this sort of eating and drinking extravaganza is not really our thing was reinforced by this trip, but we made Kim happy for her birthday that year and at least we can now say we’ve tried it.
So the invitation to Kim’s the following Friday must have come hot on the heels of a positive report from Janie on the Street of Crocodiles date…
…or at least not a negative report.
Intriguingly, there is also a note in Janie’s diary that she had a new bed delivered on Tuesday 1 September. Janie claims that the timing of the bed purchase must be pure coincidence. I am tempted to believe her and I am sure that all you sweet Ogblog readers are similarly convinced by the “must be” argument.
Anyway, for Friday 4 September, the suggestion was that we gather for some early evening tennis in the Square and then eat5 at Kim & Micky’s place afterwards.
I think the pre-refurbishment look of the courts in 1992 can just be seen on the second court at the back of this picture.
Anyway, we were returning to the scene of the 8 August crime (as it were), with Kim, Micky and their dogs Charlie and Jumper in tow. In truth, even though I was no doubt sober on arrival, tennis peppered with dogs wanting to chase the balls all the time is not exactly great tennis.
But it was great company, of course. In any case, the wine would soon start to take effect making the tennis seem less important and the idea of sloping back to Kim & Micky’s place for more wine plus food increasingly appealing…
…so that’s what we did.
Janie recalls we did this more than once, but the evenings were drawing in and soon tennis was off the agenda for Friday evenings even though gathering after work on a Friday was something we did quite regularly (i.e. once every few weeks) in this early months/years.
Sunday 20 September shows Kim & Micky tennis in Janie’s diary, whereas it says “Bridge?” in mine. I don’t think the bridge happened. Janie had been to the Questors Theatre with her mum the night before. More on the Questors anon. Anyway, I do think we spent that Sunday afternoon with Kim & Micky, plus Charlie and Jumper making tennis havoc.
Being sent out on audit to a furniture factory in Braintree just brought home the lifestyle contrast.
Travel broadens the mind…even a daily commute from Streatham to Braintree
Strangely, I remember rather liking the commute, as I had acquired a taste for reading on the move during my National BBYO period (1979-1980) and was reading voraciously by the summer of 1981.
I say in the diary that I was summoned back to the office from Braintree before the end of the working day on the Friday. My mum had complained to “the authorities” (via my Uncle Michael no doubt) that my lengthy commute was too onerous a duty for her little one. Her motivation for this unwanted intervention was the delay my long commute caused to the family meal. Dad’s drive from the shop to the house only took 10-15 minutes.
I was really irritated when I discovered that mum had intervened, but the die was cast and I was back in the office for the rest of the summer, with only London-based clients in my auditing-orbit. That did enable me to socialise with my friends a bit more, I suppose, which I most certainly did that summer.
On the Saturday I spent much of the day watching Wimbledon finals day. In those days, the whole tournament was a week earlier than it is today and the men’s finals day was on the Saturday.
That Borg/McEnroe final was an absolute classic and I remember it well. I also remember watching the subsequent doubles matches too. In those days, my mum was keen to watch and probably watched much of it with me.
Below is David Irvine’s take on it all from The Guardian on the following Monday.
I also mention taping charts and Paul (Deacon – also a friend from Alleyn’s) visiting in the evening. There’ll be some more playlists to follow in the fulness of time, but for now I shall sign off this piece, exactly forty years on.
