It’s almost noon and I need to go catch the bus for Wimbledon. Ladies’ finals today with Venus and Serena. Can’t wait! Also looking forward to seeing the Bryan Brothers in their men’s doubles final and Venus and Serena in the women’s doubles final. Great day of tennis ahead. Weather is cloudy and cool. Maybe they’ll close the roof?I couldn’t have asked for better weather. It was sunny but breezy for the Women’s Singles final at Wimbledon. Serena and Venus were awesome to watch in the first set. Not so much in the second. I have a theory: The sisters have agreed that whichever sister wins the first set wins the match. To support this theory, I offer the following evidence: 1) the sisters have never played a third set in any finals match; 2) instead of getting better, the level of play dropped drastically from Venus after Serena won the first match; 3) after not being broken once in 34 games throughout the tournament–including the first set, which was won by Serena in a tiebreak–Venus was broken twice in the second set (through unforced errors and two double faults) and lost 6-2.

My favorite example of this phenomenon is a final they played where Serena won the first set, and then was in a deuce situation with Venus where she had to win the point to win the second set. Venus needed 10 unforced errors–through a series of deuce games–in order to let Serena win the match.

Conspiracies are hard to prove and fascinating to contemplate.

I saw a lot of serious bling on the women at the finals. My favorite: the woman sitting next to me with a six-carat square-cut diamond ring on the same hand as a thick black sports watch with five .33 carat diamonds rolling around inside the face. Most impressed by: her brand new gorgeous tan leather sandals with a leather wristband on the opposite hand to match.

I headed inside for scones with jam and clotted cream and a hot cup of tea during the first set of the men’s doubles finals with the #1 Bryan brothers. Unfortunately they lost in four sets. 

My two adorable grandchildren

It was still sunny as ever at 6:00 p.m when the Williams sisters played their doubles match against Stosur and Stubbs. Great tennis to watch. I finally took off about 8:45 (still bright as day) for the bus back to Wimbledon. Long (12 p.m. to 9 p.m.) wonderful day of tennis!

DAY 11–Sunday, July 5

Most of all, it was so nice to be back home with my children and grandchildren.  They make a homecoming even sweeter.

Veronica and I start every morning with a bowl of meuesli, half and half with dry oatmeal and fruits–blueberries, blackberries, raspberries, gooseberries (look like green grapes, taste like plums) and strawberries, so far–and milk. You aren’t hungry again until lunch. The berries here are larger and sweeter than in America. I found out at the grocery that the small red berries I had for dessert at Cote were red currants. Tasty!

Enjoying tennis, lunch and shade!

Today I had tickets for the Women’s semi-final matches at Wimbledon. I was leery of the heat after my last experience with seats in the sun, but the weather was definitely cooler. I felt like I was reciting a children’s primer as I muttered, “Come clouds come,” and “Blow winds blow.” The clouds came and the winds blew and the weather was wonderful for tennis.

 The first match was Serena Williams vs. Elena Dementieva. One of the things you can see when you’re there that isn’t visible on TV is that Serena didn’t move much on the court. She played flat-footed and if the ball wasn’t close, she let it go. The young South African woman sitting next to me said she played “arrogantly.” Which is to say, “If I don’t get this one, I’ll get the next one. And I WILL win.” And she did, in three sets. It was the longest match (2 hours 49 minutes) in women’s semi-final history at Wimbledon.

You know I’d have to take a bathroom break somewhere in there. The problem is, if you leave your seat between games, you only have a minute and a half to get back. And if you leave your seat between sets, you still only have 5 minutes to get back. So I waited until Dementieva won the first set and ran for the bathroom. I missed the aisle where I should have returned, and a soldier sent me the wrong way, so I ended up at the opposite end of the stadium from where I belonged–at the other end from the royal box. Great seats, but they weren’t mine! 

I sat there for six games, moving once when people came back to reclaim their seats. The soldier saw me changing seats and asked to see my ticket. I showed him my ticket and told him I didn’t have time to get back to my seats, so he let me sit there. But finally, everyone returned and I had no choice but to try–in 90 seconds–to get all the way back to my seat–or miss the next three game (at the end of the second set). I ran all the way around and got up the steps toward my seat just as the chair umpire said “Time” over her microphone. I could see the soldier was going to block the entrance to my seat and took a quick step into the stadium–and tripped and feel at his feet, skinning my knee.

I jumped up and made my way to my seat, where I realized my knee was bleeding. I always go prepared, so I used a Kleenex and some cold water to clean it and a couple of bandaids to cover it–good as new! And I saw the end of a spectacular set that Serena won. I now have a Wimbledon War Wound to show my dedication to the game.

I forgot to mention my two celebrity sightings at Wimbledon. On Tuesday I saw Martina Navratilova as she was entering the Wimbledon grounds and on Thursday I saw Richard Williams–up really close and personal–as he was leaving the “guests of players” box.

The Venus Williams vs. Dinara Safina match was a joke. Venus moves really well, and Safina just folded, 6-1, 6-0. I didn’t stay for the men’s semi-final match with the #1 seeded Bryan Brothers, but neither did anyone else, just left like lemmings into the sea.

I bought myself some Indian take-out in Wimbledon Village and some groceries and headed home at the end of a fabulous day.

 Day 9–Friday, July 3

This was a day of rest for me. I read another great Simon Kernick book in the morning, then watched BBC – 1 on the telly, where the two men’s semi-finals matches played without commercial interruption. Federer was simply amazing against Tommy Haas, unbeatable, really. Everyone in England had their hopes pinned on Andy Murray beating Andy Roddick, but Roddick just served too well and played harder in the important points. When I’ve watched Murray earlier in the year, I thought he eased off when he was ahead. Which is to say, he played defensively, rather than offensively at times–which cost him this match. Sad day in England. And I suppose that means the queen won’t show up at the men’s final after all this year.

After tennis, Veronica and I decided to go to a movie and dinner. I made reservations for 10:00 p.m. at Cote Bistro, the great restaurant where I’d gone with Ashley earlier in the week. We ended up seeing THE HANGOVER. If you haven’t seen it–and don’t mind nudity, crudity or profanity–it’s absolutely a hoot. I’d seen it before and enjoyed it just as much the second time (sort of like a good book–you can always read it again). Four buddies go to Las Vegas for a bachelor’s last night out before his wedding. When three of them wake up the next morning, there’s a baby in the closet, a tiger in the bathroom, and they can’t find the groom. None of them has any memory of what happened the night before. Their investigation of what happened the night before is hilarious. Go and have a great laugh.

I had a 10 oz. ribeye at Cote that I think really was 10 oz, fries and some spinach–and egg custard for dessert. Veronica and I settled for a couple of glasses of wine and finally made it home around midnight.

Day 10–Saturday, July 4

It’s almost noon and I need to go catch the bus for Wimbledon. Ladies’ finals today with Venus and Serena. Can’t wait! Also looking forward to seeing the Bryan Brothers in their men’s doubles final and Venus and Serena in the women’s doubles final. Great day of tennis ahead. Weather is cloudy and cool. Maybe they’ll close the roof?

Speaking of cool air, there isn’t any in London right now during the day. Temperatures are at record highs. My Wimbledon seat–although close to the action–was on the sunny side of Centre Court. Grown men wilted in the heat with great patches of sweat dripping down the sides of their button-down long-sleeved shirts. We weren’t allowed to put up umbrellas except during the break, but I fanned myself constantly with a postcard. I left after the first set of the Safina vs. Licsicki match to head for the Debenture Lounge–air-conditioned, where I could watch on TV. Okay, that wasn’t why I bought tickets, to watch the match on TV, but the Lounge has other attractions, including lobster and roast beef and salads and strawberries and cream–and all the champagne (you can get a bottle in a bucket) or wine or beer you want (as long as you’re willing to pay for it).

Wimbledon & my MIRA bag!

I woke up late today because I thought quarterfinal women’s play in Centre Court–for which I have a debenture ticket I bought from an online sports site–didn’t start till 2:00 p.m. Wrong. Play started at 1:00. I’d slept late because my son Blake wasn’t sure of the time difference and called me at 3:00 to say he was out of surgery and his gall bladder had been removed, and again at 5:00 to let me know he was getting out of the hospital. Wonderful news, but it didn’t make for a very restful sleep–complicated by the fact that the eye cover I’m using to keep out the light came off. I can always hear the birds singing around 4:00 a.m., because all the windows are open to let in the cool air, easily as effective as a rooster for waking you up. Interesting note: despite the heat of the day, it’s cool enough at night to sleep comfortably under a feather comforter. 

I headed back down to my seat for the end of the Safina match (she won) and was able to sit in an empty seat in the shade for a few sets. But when Serena Williams and Victoria Azarenka’s match began, the seats filled back up and I headed back into the sun. It was impossible to really enjoy the tennis because it was stifling hot. I did my best to watch each woman’s serve. They hit the ball so hard I can’t imagine trying to hit it back.

Okay, I admit I’ve complained that on TV Serena looks big, and I’ve noticed Dinara Safina’s pooch belly. In person, those girls are ripped. Safina is incredibly tall, and Serena looked really slim. By the way, Safina had no trouble with Licsicki’s serve–she just stepped back a foot farther than Wozniacki did to return it.

It was a short day of tennis, because it was only those two matches. When I left Centre Court there was a wonderful breeze outside and I realized I’d missed being on Murray Mount with the crowd. I had a chance to watch the #1 Men’s Doubles players, the Bryan Brothers, on Centre Court, too, but skipped it because of the heat. Everyone else skipped it too. . . left like lemmings heading into the sea.

Veronica (who’s here at Liz’s house with me) and I took advantage of the early night to go out to dinner at a restaurant that combined Indian and Chinese food. I had some lamb curry that was so hot I needed yogurt to cool it off, some BBQ lamb ribs and some rice and nan. Wonderful meal with wonderful company. Veronica showed me the enormous redbrick 6-bedroom house she used to own, where she would often host junior Wimbledon tennis players, and the lovely downsized redbrick 3-bedroom row house she’s been remodeling, which is why she’s staying at Liz’s right now along with me.

DAY 7–Wednesday, July 1

This was supposed to be a day of rest, followed by dinner with Humphrey and Jonie, but Humphrey is still editing a documentary on the situation in Sierra Leone (or it might be Liberia). I can identify so well with having to cancel plans to finish an artistic project which just doesn’t follow a schedule. We’re hoping to find another time to meet.

The Brindians I met in line at Wimbledon have emailed to give me a couple of recommendations of bars where I can go to watch the Wimbledon final, since I don’t have tickets. I’m checking them out and will let you know where I’m going to end up.

I decided I needed to clean up my upstairs room today and sorted through my clothes enough to discover that everything needed to be washed–so I did laundry today. No dryer, so I hung everything outside on a drying rack. Then I headed into London for a movie and a play. I bought an Underground “day pass” for £6.30 that took me everywhere I wanted to go all day long in London.

I knew I wanted to see a movie called KATYN, which was playing in an art theatre near Russell Square at 3:30. I also wanted to see a show on the West End. I decided on SISTER ACT, the stage play of the movie by the same name with Whoopi Goldberg. I didn’t have a map with me, but I got directions to Oxford Circus and bought my ticket for the play at the Palladium Theatre around 2:00 for the 7:30 p.m. show (and got an eighth row center orchestra seat at a discounted price).

Then I got back on the Underground and headed for the Renoir Theatre in Brunswick Square near the Russell Square stop. I had enough time to go to Carluccio’s restaurant; sat outdoors and had gnocchi with gorgonzola cheese sauce and spinach. Truly delicious! I treated myself to some pistachio gelato from a nearby vendor, then bought my ticket for KATYN and still had time to do some clothes shopping. The prices were definitely right, but I didn’t find anything I loved. 

 I ended up grabbing a sandwich and some strawberry water at a deli across from the Russell Square station before I headed back to Oxford Circus. I ended up buying a drink at a restaurant near the theater so I could sit down outside and eat my sandwich. No one has more flavors of fruit drinks than the Brits!

Movie or Play: Love Both!

KATYN is a movie about the murder (hands tied and shot in the back of the head) of 20,000 Polish POWs in early 1940, and their burial in mass graves in the forest of Katyn by the Soviets during WWII, done in Polish with subtitles. It was obviously a difficult subject, but I’ve been fascinated by war novels/movies for quite some time, and the incident at KATYN forest has played a part in several of those novels. The problem KATYN created for the Poles was, the Soviets tried to blame what they’d done on the Germans, and the Germans wanted to get the word out to the world that it was the Soviets; the Poles were caught in the middle, living in a Soviet controlled Poland after the war where the truth wasn’t allowed to be told. The movie is told through the lives of the wives and families of the soldiers who were killed, along with showing the lives and conditions of the POWs. It was a terrible tragedy, and more evidence of man’s inhumanity to man, especially with war as an excuse to ignore personal conscience.  

I’m not sure how many stairs I climbed today but it was a LOT. The underground has stairs up and down at every stop, and I had to change trains from the District to the Picadilly line, then to the Bakerloo Line to buy my tickets in the afternoon, and then back again to the Picadilly line to get off at Russell Square–and then do it in reverse to get back home. Of course, because I didn’t have a map, I’d gotten off at Leicester Square first and had to go back down and go back one stop to Picadilly Circus to connect to the Bakerloo Line. The Underground is easy to follow. You just need to be willing to do a lot of walking and manage a lot of stairs. By the way, the paper said a lot of the Underground cars were at 33C–which is more than a hundred degrees. I didn’t find the cars as crowded or as hot today as I did yesterday.

I loved SISTER ACT! The black woman in the lead was wonderful, the staging was truly impressive, the music and dancing uplifting and delightful, and there’s one costume change that’s a killer. A “shy cop” starts his vocal and dance number wearing a cop uniform, has the velcroed costume ripped off him to reveal a Saturday Night Fever white suit and vest with a red shirt and tie for the middle part of the number (where he wishes he could be less shy) and then has THAT white suit and white vest and red shirt velcroed costume ripped off him to reveal another cop uniform (because he’s really just a shy cop). Wow! It was done so quickly I missed the third change–just looked up and he was in a cop uniform again. I thoroughly enjoyed the show and would highly recommend it. Flashy and fun!

I forgot to mention one of the things I did shop for today: mascara. Okay, that doesn’t sound significant, but you have no idea how many girls I’ve seen on the bus and the train with REALLY LONG EYELASHES. So I asked a couple of girls today what they were using. Turns out there’s a local British company called Rimmel that makes mascara. I went to a drugstore to buy some, and believe it or not, there were six or seven different varieties of Rimmel mascara. So I got five of them. I’ll let you know whether I get longer eyelashes. . .

I didn’t get off the train until 11:00 tonight and the bus didn’t come till 11:20–then only 4 minutes to get to Liz’s house. It’s 1:30 a.m. and I have tickets for the Wimbledon semi-final matches at 1:00 p.m. tomorrow. Looking forward to the tennis (but not the heat).

As someone who’s read a lot of “how to” dating books–and who’s had a lot of first dates–I can identify with Katherine Heigl in THE UGLY TRUTH. She’s a successful woman who doesn’t want to believe men are attracted to physical beauty, rather than the beauty inside. She also has a list of prerequisites for a life partner, and isn’t meeting men who fit the bill.

Along comes chauvinistic (misogynistic?) Gerard Butler, who tells her that if she follows the rules he sets down, she’ll attract the doctor next door, whom she thinks is the man of her dreams. Butler suggests that she never criticize, dress sexy, and laugh at all her date’s jokes–whether they’re funny or not.

Katherine follows Butler’s advice and gets her man–and then realizes the doctor doesn’t love her, he loves the woman she’s pretending to be. Meanwhile, Butler, a man jaded by too many women who’ve lied to him and cheated on him, has fallen in love with the controlling–albeit sexy–professional woman she is.

There are moments of lovely interaction between Heigl, whom the camera loves, and Butler (especially the dance scene), but ultimately, there’s no reason given for Butler to let down his guard with Heigl and fall in love with her–or for Heigl to fall in love with someone as chauvinistic as Butler. I’m left yearning for that perfect movie romance.

Popcorn makes a good movie better

I slept in Sunday morning afternoon, then went shopping in Wimbledon Village. It’s fun to see the European hair clips and jewelry and clothes designs, which are so different from what we get in the U.S. Some things seem like such a bargain–until you translate pounds into dollars. 

I spent the rest of the afternoon at the Odeon Theatre watching TRANSFORMERS: RISE OF THE FALLEN, which was better than the first Transformers movie, in that it focused more on the people. I was offered a choice of “sweet” or “salty” popcorn. The sweet is what we would call caramel corn. I finally figured out that the way you tell the good Transformers from the bad Transformers is the good guys have blue eyes and the bad guys’ eyes are red. Sheesh.

The theatre was the first air conditioning I’ve experienced since I came to the UK. I thought I’d brought a sweater, but hadn’t. However, I was wearing a dress with a slip attached, so I was able to just pull the dress part up over my shoulders to survive the chill.

I had dinner at a restaurant called Coal–Indian curry again. I think I could eat curry every day the rest of my life. Just love it! I also went to the grocery store to shop–for fresh blackberries, raspberries and cherries–and got some Pimm’s #1 so I can make a Pimm’s for everyone when I get home, along with a bottle of Robinsons, so you can see what that tastes like. I also got some milk, (they don’t have half & half here–just carnation milk from a can for cream), several bottles of water, some bread and curried chicken for sandwiches, brazil nuts, clotted cream and biscuits (to have with tea), and two kinds of cookies.

Now imagine me carrying all my purchases from the “mall,” in town, my groceries, and oh, yes, I found a thriller author I like in Liz’s bookshelf, Simon Kerchik (or something like that). I read his novel RELENTLESS and liked it so much I bought all the rest of his backlist (4 novels) in town, along with another copy of RELENTLESS to replace Liz’s because I broke the spine reading it. So I also have five books in tow. AND I’ve got an umbrella and purse full of “necessary” things that I left home with.

I’m now carrying three large plastic bags in each hand (by the way, you’re encouraged to carry stuff out without a bag, so you’re always asked if you want one), including two large alcohol-size bottles, a quart of milk, two large Evian water bottles and all the other stuff I’ve bought. I have to get from the grocery store to the bus stop and then from the bus stop back to Liz’s house with all my purchases.

This is why Europeans are thin–and why they only buy one day’s groceries at a time. I’m used to shopping once a week and filling my entire trunk. In this case, I had to carry everything I bought. But I’m pretty good at taking the bus back and forth to Liz’s house and she’s barely a half block from the nearest stop. It’s a good thing I’m getting a fair amount of walking in, because I’m not denying myself dessert.

It’s true that everything happens when you’re out of the country. I got an e-mail from my son, who moved to Seattle only two weeks ago, that he was headed for the emergency room with gall stones. Here I am, 10 hours’ time difference and a continent away. Frustrating to want to be there and to be here. I’m happy to report that the stones have been removed and he’s no longer jaundiced. He may or may not get his gall bladder removed in the next couple of days, but is doing fine.

DAY 5–Monday, June 29

I had to decide whether to get up at 6:00 a.m. to queue for Wimbledon or whether to stay in bed till 7:30 and queue by 9:00. I decided I needed the sleep and finally reached the queue at 9:15. I was number 9247 in line (yes, number nine thousand forty-seven; last Thursday afternoon, I was number 28,000). I met another great bunch of people, three young guys–Ashley, in law school, Peter, currently unemployed, and Scott, a factory manager. Peter quizzed me for information on “how you know a girl is attracted to you.” That was a tough one. All I could tell him is that I know within thirty seconds if I’m attracted to a man–or whether he’s attracted to me. Whether that attraction lasts, or develops into a relationship, is a whole different matter. We got to the stadium and bought our ground’s tickets at about 12:30 and the first matches weren’t scheduled to start until 1:00.

Today I wanted to see some actual tennis (rather than watch on the big screen at Murray Mount), so I headed to Court 4 to watch Caroline Wozniacki (DEN) (9) play Sabine Lisicki (GER), who’d beaten Kuznetzova. I actually ended up slipping into a seat right at the edge of the court, but we were crowded and hot. I like Wozniacki and wanted her to win, but Lisicki has a really great serve that Wozniacki couldn’t return, and a slice that only comes six inches off the ground.

I’d brought lunch, and settled myself in a cool place (the benches around Court 1, where it’s shady and you can watch the action on Court 1 on indoor TVs) to eat. After lunch, I spent some time watching the Venus Williams vs. Ana Ivanovic match on the big screen at a picnic table with a school teacher, a physical therapist and a forensic scientist from Surrey. Ana had to retire because of injuries in the second set.

I headed for the line where you can buy tickets that have been turned in and discovered it was BLOCKS long! It was already late, and I was woeful that I wasn’t going to get to see Lleyton Hewitt play on Court 2. A man sitting on the grass heard me and offered me his 50£ ticket in the first row center!

It took me quite a while to get to Court 2, and when I did, I had to wait for three games to finish so I could be seated. I’d just sat down–with Lleyton down two sets to love, but up 3-0 games in the third–when there was a rain delay! I got a chance to see the court caretakers in action. They’re fast.  

Robinsons in the Queue

By the way, I have immense respect, admiration and awe for the ball boys and girls. The ones who hand balls to the players stand with their feet apart, hands behind their back without moving for HOURS. When a ball is needed, they hold one straight up in the air and wait until the player asks for it or decides not to receive it. The kids who collect the balls at the net, are perched on the ground on one knee, with their other leg bent behind them, and their hands flat on the ground. When they collect balls, they need to run across the court and sit back down again, and may or may not stop and step around the net to roll the ball to the ball boys and girls standing at the back of the court. In between games, they all have to roll the balls from the back of the court, through the kneeling ball boys and girls to the standing ball boys and girls at the other end. It works like a Swiss watch–very effective, very efficient, very quiet and, well, dignified (compare to undignified FANATICS, below).  

The rain delay was short–just long enough for me to get my first strawberries and cream at Wimbledon. I swear the fruit in England is sweeter than our fruit in Ameria. The strawberries were to die for.

When we got back to our seats in Court 2, I realized I was across the aisle from two rows of 10–about 20–FANATICS wearing yellow and green shirts and cheering wildly and loudly for Lleyton Hewitt. They totally unnerved Radek Stepanek, who was playing Hewitt. During the warmup after the rain delay, every time Hewitt hit the ball all twenty would grunt — UUUHH– and when Stepanik hit the ball, they would make a sound like a little girl– oooooo—. So you had this UUUUUH, oooooo, UUUUUH, oooooo, UUUUUU, ooooo. They clapped and shouted and jumped up every time Lleyton won a point, until the Honorary Steward came down and told them to “Sit down!” Of course, he was more of a distraction than they were, insisting on sitting on the step right beside me, and the crowd boooed him.

I heard him tell the Australians, “This behavior just isn’t posh!” Well. For the next two minutes, the Australians mimicked “proper” British behavior, and British accents. Holding their hands up to clap politely and saying, “Maaahhhvellous, Lleyton.” and “Jolly good, Llleyton.”

Of course, this set the Honorary Steward on fire. He called in the army. Which made the Hewitt crowd in Court 2 angry. Suddenly, from all over the stadium people were shouting , “Go, mate!” and “You can do it, Lleyton.” And whistling and shouting and clapping for Hewitt to show their support of the Fanatics (me included).

The steward finally left and the FANATICS went on cheering during breaks, doing loud chants like “We’ll be here for five!” They never shut up, they never quit–and they roused the crowd (great to be part of it!) to support Hewitt–until Hewitt finally won the match in five sets. It was exciting and energizing and fun, because Hewitt came over to the crowd (right next to me) after the match to thank them for their support. There was an article in the paper this morning mentioning how the FANATICS had roused Hewitt to win. That was tremendous fun!

When the Hewitt match was over, I headed to Murray Mount to watch Andy Murray’s match with Stan Wawrinka. The grassy hill overflowed with a mass of people. I finally found a place to sit up high, but on an angle of the hill. The grass is slick and I had to plant one foot with my knee bent, which put my whole weight on that knee, to watch the match. I watched the first set with the crowd in the cool evening, then took the bus back home (around 8:00 p.m.) because Veronica and I were going to dinner in Tooting.

However, we got caught up watching the match on the telly and it didn’t end until 10:30, when Andy finally won in five sets. Really exciting! Needless to say, we never got to Tooting. We’ll try again tomorrow.

DAY 6–Tuesday, June 30

I got two early morning calls from my son Blake, telling me he’s in good shape, which was a relief. Still no word if he’ll get his gall bladder removed. I’m heading to Wimbledon today where I have tickets for Centre Court for the Women’s Quarterfinals matches. I’ll be seeing Serena Williams play Azarenka, and one other women’s match, I think, and then some men’s doubles. Veronica and I are going to try again to get to Tooting for some Indian food tonight. Wish us luck!

Joan and Ashley, former Barry University student

I spent a couple of hours at the British Museum, which is vast and full of the ”oldest” and ”largest” and ”most unique” items around. There’s so much it’s impossible to see it all. I love history (something I think I got from my Mom, who read Winston Churchill’s tomes at bedtime) and really can’t get enough of it, which is why I think I’m so fascinated by England.

The ride back to Wimbledon from London on the tube (the Underground) was long and hot, and I had a couple of hours to kill before I planned to meet up with Ashley, my daughter’s friend who works for the Women’s Tennis Association in player development, for dinner. I stepped into the Prince of Wales pub, where I ordered my food and drink at the bar and then headed for a table near one of the big-screen TVs–where I watched the first Wimbledon matches I’ve seen since I got to London. I saw the number 4 men’s player win handily (did you guess Jokovich?), then did some walking around town and found an Internet cafe and a grocery store and the Odeon Theatre where I will see some movies before I leave town.

Around 9 p.m, Ashley picked me up in her car and we went to a French restaurant in Wimbledon Village called Cote. We got a table near the front door, where we could see everyone coming and going, ordered a bottle of pinot noir, then had sour dough bread and butter and delicious salads of endirve and walnuts and warm roquefort dressing. I had the duck with cherry sauce and au gratin potatoes–delicious! We splurged on dessert and I had almost-frozen berries–raspberries, blueberries and a small red berry I didn’t recognize–with warm white chocolate. Very decadent!

By the way, you will notice I’ve been imbibing an extraordinary amount of alcohol–and I don’t drink! Well, not much. But so far I’ve had an evening of champagne, split a bottle of wine, and drunk several Pimm’s at Wimbledon (more about that later)–which is essentially a cucumber/lemon gin gimlet.

I’m not sure how much of my feeling waterlogged on occasion is jetlag and how much is the surprising amount of alcohol I’ve been consuming.

Ashley and I ended our day at midnight and she dropped me off at the home where I’m staying in Wimbledon. Since it was late, I assumed Veronica (who’s staying there with me) was already in–and bolted the front door closed. She arrived some time later and didn’t want to ring the bell because it was so late and ended up spending the night at her home which is being renovated. Sorry Veronica!

I wanted to watch the women’s matches on Centre Court, so I left Jonie in the box and headed up the hill. In the a.m., it wasn’t too crowded and I managed to find a spot on an angled hill in the grass behind the picnic tables, where I took off my shoes and put my feet in the cool grass to watch Ana Ivanovic win her match. Then a couple seated at the picnic table in front of me got up, and I took their seats facing–and situated directly in the center–of the large TV screen. I joined a bunch of Australian girls also sitting at the table (hence my knowledge above).

Bez, Joan and Jonie

I was up early Saturday morning because I had two box seat tickets Ashley got for me to Wimbledon. I took the 156 bus to Wimbledon Village, where I got another bus right to the stadium. I met my friend Jonie Hawksley and her nephew Bez, who also had a ticket, at Gate 5 where I picked up the tickets Ashley had arranged (Thank you, Ashley!). We found our seats in Court 1, and I headed back out to what was called Henman Hill (after British tennis play Tim Henman) and has been renamed Murray Mount (after Scottish tennis player Andy Murray). Murray Mount is an elevated area behind court one that begins with about fifteen stone stairs that lead to a hill of soft grass where plastic picnic tables (very few–maybe ten) are scattered. People who only have a ground’s pass–that is, they can get on the grounds of Wimbledon, but don’t have tickets for a particular stadium–can set up camp and watch the matches from Centre Court on an ENORMOUS TV screen facing the hill.

One of the things that’s fascinating to me about Wimbledon is that everyone is allowed to bring as many bottles, cans or containers of alcohol, and as much food of any kind, and as many blankets and clothes, as they wish into the stadium–that is, as much as you can carry in a 12”x12” backpack. Which, believe me, is a lot! I saw bottles of vodka, bottles of champagne, bottles of beer, appetitzers, dips, chips, sandwiches. Well, after all, they’re picnicking on Murray Mount, and they’re going to be there from 10:00 a.m. till 8:00 at night. The Pimm’s tent wasn’t far from my table, and I got tired of the warm water, which was all I’d brought; hence, my venture into icy, minty gin gimlets!

I also watched the Venus Williams match on the screen, then went into Court 1 to watch Svetlana Kuznetzova’s match. Svet just won the French Open, so I was excited to see her match. I didn’t recognize the other player, who wasn’t ranked (19-year-old Lisceki (?)). Svet played even worse than the other player; Sevt lost. Both players played badly. I was upset that I’d watched such bad tennis and missed the Roddick match, which was playing on the Centre Court TV screen.

I headed back outside to the picnic table on Murray Mount, where I’d promised the kids there I’d buy them a Pimm’s if they’d hold the table for me and Jonie so we could watch the Murray match–which they did. When we got back to Murray Mount two hours later, it was much changed from the idyllic, spacious place it had been in the morning. People were squashed together with barely a footfall to make your way around. Despite efforts by stewards, litter covered the ground. Dark gray clouds threatened and we could see lightning in the distance. The breeze kept it from being stifling.

Stewards walk around to make sure the men don’t remove their shirts, but the girls had the straps off their dresses and had taken off layers so they were dressed in short shorts (normally, everyone is wearing black leggings to the ankle with their precociously short skirts). I’d spent most of the day with an umbrella up, held close to my head, to fend off the sun. Now I was afraid I was going to need the umbrella to keep off the rain. And I worried about being on Murray Mount with all that lightning.

I brought four Pimm’s back to the table (all by myself!) two for our helpers and one each for Jonie and me while Jonie got us some fried chicken and chips (fried potatoes) for supper. We watched the first set of the match while I ate and drank my Pimm’s and then I found my way down the hill to do some souvenir shopping. I wanted to beat the crowd–and the rain–so left Jonie and Bez to watch on the hill while I headed for the cab stand. Got home in time to watch the last set of the match on the telly at Liz’s place (around 8:00 p.m.), then watched a little more TV before heading up to bed.

Woke up at 4:00 this a.m. (eyemask had slipped off), put it back on and slept till 9:30. Still trying to dump the jetlag. I’m going to spend the afternoon in London with Veronica, but I’m heading in to Wimbledon Village to have some lunch (it’s around 11:30 a.m.). Will catch up with you later!

Piccadilly Line

Found an Internet cafe near the British Museum where I can catch you up on my journey. Flying Business Class definitely has its advantages. I flew on the upper deck of a giant British Airways 7?7, with a chair that slid down to a bed. All the movies, TV, audio you could want (watched a movie), all the champagne, beer, liquor and soft drinks you could want (didn’t want these), all the snacks, chocolate and cookies you could want (didn’t eat these) and all the fresh fruit and nuts you could want (had some of these). I skipped the four course dinner and slept from 9:15 to 11:15, then woke and watched an English Daniel Craig movie, LAYER CAKE, then back to sleep till 4:15, which was around our arrival time in London of 10:00 in the morning.

Took the Underground to Wimbledon station (which is Wimbledon Village–the Wimbledon crowd all got off at Southfields), then a cab to my writer friend Liz’s home on Avondale Road. Liz is actually out of the country, but her friend Veronica is staying in her home, as well, as she welcomed me and gave me the key and a lift to Wimbledon Park, where I ”queued” for Wimbledon at around 2:00 p.m.

You join a line that takes about 3 hours to wend its way to the entrance to Wimbledon, where you can by a ground’s pass to watch whatever tennis is happening. I ended up in line with four fascinating young people–three ”Brindians”–British Indians, whose Indian parents immigrated from Tanzania/Uganda in Africa–and a half English half Chinese young man from Mauritius, which is an island off Madagascar. We were treated to free suntan lotion, which we needed, because the day was beautiful, and free Robinsons, a mixture of apple and black currant juice that’s been served at the umpire’s chair at Wimbledon for 74 years, ever since it was invented in the Wimbledon Locker Room. Tastes great!

We were in line so long the young folks made a beer and champagne run and brought back a couple of six-packs of beer and a couple of bottles of champagne, which were all consumed before I finally had to leave the line at five–within eyeshot of the entrance–to go get ready for the summer party to which I’d been invited. I did have an ice cream on a cone, but British ice cream really is chilled cream and tastes more like a whipped cream on a cone, than what we think of as ice cream.

SUMMER PARTY

Strawberries and Cream

My friends Humphrey and Jonie picked me up at Liz’s house for their friend Jonathan’s annual Summer Party at his home, which is a large apartment in Putney. I got a glass of champagne at the door which was never allowed to empty for the next three-four hours. We were served hors d’oeuvres before the buffet dinner of wild salmon, new potatoes, asparagus and chicken curry with rice. After dinner came a wheel of brie the size of a large pizza and a chunk of stilton cheese the size of a 5-gallon bin of ice cream (yes, FIVE GALLON), served with bread, and of course, my favorite, strawberries and raspberries with cream.

Fascinating people at Jonathan’s party. Humphrey and Jonie know Jonathan from Hong Kong, where they were all journalists together. I met:

A beautiful Swiss banker who speaks six languages, including Russian, with dyed blond hair to her slender waist, a wonderful smile that flashed a diamond in her eyetooth. She got it when she was sixteen along with her best friend, who also turned sixteen.

A criminal lawyer from Hong Kong who reminded me of Ralph Lauren–silver hair and a killer white-bright smile.

A real estate mogul who manages property all over Europe and Asia, who doesn’t quite believe in global warming and loves rugby.

A tall, elegantlly dressed gentleman with a cane who kept kissing my cheeks in the continental style, lamenting because he hadn’t seen me for two years–until I realized he wasn’t our host and he realized I wasn’t his friend.

Charlie, whose sister runs a horse farm south of England. Also spent time in Hong Kong.

I finally got to bed (alone) around midnight, a little jet-lagged. My room is in what we would call the ”garrett” of the house–the top floor, which is covered in overhead windows, all of which were open to the night air. I heard some feral cats fighting, but they sorted it out, and I slept soundly till morning.

Today I’m meeting up with a former student of mine at Barry University who now manages the European offices of the law firm Sullivan & Cromwell for lunch, then touring the British Museum. I have plans to meet up tonight with a friend of my daughter’s who’s with the WTA at Wimbledon Village for some dinner.

Will let you know how it all goes!

I’m in the Business Lounge for British Airways at Miami International Airport right now, with a Diet Coke and some snacks, waiting to board at 8:00 p.m. tonight. I have a “bed” in the upper deck of the plane and plan to sleep (wish me luck) on the way over. I arrive at Heathrow at 10:00 a.m. tomorrow morning.

I left Tampa in a rush this a.m. after changing my American Airlines connecting flight. I was scheduled to arrive here in Miami at 6:15 for an 8:45 p.m. international departure. But when I saw the 40% chance of thunderstorms at 4:00 p.m. today, decided to leave early. So made reservations at 8:55 for the 11:20 flight. It was a race, but got there in plenty of time thanks to my friend Brandi, who had the presence of mind to turn off my computer for me when she picked me up.

My friend BBC correspondent and author Humphrey Hawksley (just back from Sierra Leone and Liberia) and his wife Jonie invited me to a Summer Party in Putney tomorrow night, which sounds like great fun.