Our photo op with Andy Murray
Jun. 27th, 2010 07:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
louiseluxI just had the most amazing week camping at Wimbledon with ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
buckle_berry and tarteaucitron.
We Queued to the max and learned even more about the arcane practises involved in successful queueing! We saw Rafa and Roger and Mandy and Sue from the Queue! We saw Feliciano Lopez in Wimbledon village. He has arms! And he buys groceries from the artisanal grocers there. Berry commented that he looks a lot more manly in real life and I agree.
We "met" Uncle Toni in the street. He smiled at us as we stood aside to let him pass on a narrow bit of pavement. He's a lot taller and slimmer than he looks on tv. We properly met Mohamed Lahyani! In what has to be the coolest moment of my life to date I told him: "I love your umpiring." He actually looked genuinely delighted. He said 'Bien sur!' when we asked for our pictures with him and posed with each of us.buckle_berry has those on her camera because mine decided to die right at that point. However Lars Graff just gave me a steely stare when I locked eyes with him in the tunnels under Centre Court.
We saw Roger practising on court 14, entirely by accident and good luck. It was at about 10.30am on the Monday. He looked very relaxed. The little court was full of onlookers but the atmosphere was hushed and reverent like we were in church. Berry said it made her feel weird, and I agree. The hushed reverence lasted until he stopped and began to sign things and then it turned into an absolute scrum. He signed for about five minutes and then he was whisked away through the crush by a squad of security guards. I noticed that one woman had a self published book of photos of her and Roger together that he'd signed. She was so happy that she cried. I honestly don't know what to think about that except that it makes me think how strange this whole circus is, really, on some levels.
Through our queueing exploits we got Centre Court tickets for both Monday and Thursday, so we saw two amazing, epic matches: Roger v Alejandro Falla during which we wanted to die right up until the point Roger finally won, and then Rafa v Robin Haase where we actually never properly believed Rafa was in danger of losing but it was still really exciting. Plus multiple shirt changes. Rafa has muscles in his back that normal people just don't have. We also saw Mandy bowing to the Queen!matildafilch met up with us on Thursday too, although we weren't ale to hang out as much as last year as she had seats right up at the top. Apparently there is still a pretty decent view from there though. And we saw Lars Graff eating a sausage! He gave me a wide berth though.
I might've developed a small obsession with umpires this week. Carlos Ramos was in action during Rafa's match, but he mostly seemed to be winking and smiling at a cute linesman while sneaking looks at Rafa while he changed his shirts. We saw umpiring HBIC Pascal Maria several times. Did you know that he can hold three tennis balls in each hand? Cedric Mourier walked past us on the street so we 'met' him too. I saw Erich Molina hanging out near a lift. He is pretty in real life.
Other tennis: JJ v Laura Robson, Feli's first round match, Stan v Istomin, Novak v Olivier Rochus, which was great. They closed Centre Court roof halfway through and played that really interesting documentary about how it was built, and the crowd got silly and did Mexican waves. We didn't see any of Jisner v Mahut as they played the LMOAT (longest match of all time) but I saw the adorable net hugs.
I have a ton of pics of everything!
Look at our delighted faces!
Berry's stylish Wimbledon queue sticker belt buckle. Roger would approve.
Our new boyfriends, the queue stewards. They are so polite and kind! No question is too tedious for them and they have a wealth of facts and statistics at their fingertips.
Wee Roger fans in the queue on Sunday evening.
Our 'picnic' on Sunday afternoon- note the beer. Berry made me eat an apple first on the grounds of health. The two boys in the shot had come from Colombia the day before and had stumbled on the queue quite by accident. They ended up sleeping in the open air with duvets they managed to sneak out of their hotel. At this point we were 570/571 in the queue, so the likelihood of us getting tickets for centre court was very narrow.
A very neat and orderly tent city.
Giant muffins for sale in the artisanal grocers in Wimbledon village. We like to think Feli bought some while he was in here to take round to Rafa's house.
Release the Officials! Monday, day one of the tournament.
Hushed reverence for man hitting ball.
My only decent shot of Feli! It was taken standing on a wall overlooking the court. His match was packed out for some reason, can't think why.
The guy with the highly accurate and technical ball bounce measuring device on Centre Court.
Roger's special cashmere warm up sweater! Nike are very sensible to cloth him in warming wool, especially in a mini-heatwave. Lars Graff the umpire is warning them to avoid the crazy woman who stares at you in the tunnels and to call security if necessary.
It's hard work being this pretty.
Oh Rog, you're always so graceful...
Pointy feets!
The obligatory topless shot.
The obligatory tummy shot.
The unmistakable sauntering of Roger Federer.
Novak and fans
The closing of the roof on Centre Court. This was just after a vigorous bout of Mexican waving.
The roof changes the court entirely - it feels like a different place. The sounds are different too.
6am on Wednesday morning and we're back in the queue.
Putting up the tent.
I fashioned a stylish headgear from a newspaper.
Serious camping happening at the head of the queue. They had a solar shower of which we were jealous.
Wednesday evening outside the tent. I call this one 'Le queuing sur l'herb'
We had scented tealights and lavender tent spray this year.
There were floodlights and a full moon so it didn't get dark much. It's quite hard to sleep in the queue unless you bring earplugs, as there is always someone making noise.
Thursday morning, 7am. This is Sue from the Queue, Sue's friend Pam, and Suzanne and Midge. They have been queueing here for 35 years and have the status of celebrities - they seem to know everyone. They're the only ones allowed to wear oversized hats, transgressing one of the rules in the Guide to Queueing. Being at the front of the queue is not as much fun as you'd think. Frankly they treated us like we were thick nouveau queuers who'd never put up a tent before. I wanted to tell them this was our actual second year queueing but didn't have the energy for a potential backlash. This far up, the queue is ruthlessly self policing.
Sue and Pam and one of the stewards leading the queue to the ticket gates on Thursday morning.
Inside the grounds at last, we found a quiet spot and cracked open our bottle of cava. Tarte suffered in quiet agony from her blisters. As soon as the grounds opened at 9.15 she hobbled/sprinted off and bought all of the Compeed products that the Wimbledon pharmacy could provide.
We wore Tarte's Barry M nail polish in 'Mandy blue'.
The view down from the top of Court 18 as the Queen arrives. I glimpsed the top of her hat.
Looking down from Court 18 across the grounds. The place is packed. I think the top of Court 18 is actually my favourite place to hang out. It's a little haven away from the crowds. There are picnic benches and patches of grass to lie on, shade in the afternoon and tennis to look down on. Its proximity to the press centre means it's possible to spy on John Inverdale and Tim Henman interviewing people. Plus there's a Pimms bar right there.
The Armed Forces volunteer as guards at Wimbledon during their holidays. They are all super polite and charming.
Berry's Mirka Vavrinec impression!
Us preparing ourselves mentally for Mandy's match.
Rafa making sure his water bottles are aligned. He doesn't do this because he's superstitious, by the way. There was a lovely moment at the end of the fourth set where Rafa sent the tiny little ball boy to the fridge for a new bottle of water. The bottle the boy fetched back didn't seem to be the right one, so Rafa got up from his chair, came to the fridge, stuck his head inside and proceeded to rootle about among the identical bottles of water for the one he wanted. The tiny ball boy looked mortified. It was very sweet though. I couldn't help but notice that Rafa bends over straight from the waist down with his legs planted firmly apart, in a way that is totally unselfconscious. Let me just note that this position puts his underpants under a lot of strain in the rear.
I particularly like the, um, lighting in this one.
Rafa looked super concentrated throughout the game. He didn't look up at his box very much but he did have some very stormy expressions on his face.
Rafa emanated an aura of perfect confidence all through the match. His body language never gave away that he was under pressure or was losing, and it seems a vital part of his approach to competing. It's amazing, and it's completely different to Roger. That said, Roger also doesn't give much away.
Rafa's back with his extra muscles.
He hung all his dirty shirts up on the chair next to him very tidily. I think he must've got through about five shirts for this match. I wasn't complaining though.
His new shirt is all rucked up at the back and he actually ran onto court like that, giving everyone something to stare at. He is totally mesmerising whatever he does.
The gloves of the Rafa fans just along from us.
My camera gave out at this point. Woe!
That's all. It was a brilliant week. I feel so lucky to have seen several thrilling matches, plus all the other fun. I have that proper 'I've just been on holiday' feeling.
buckle_berry and tarteaucitron. We Queued to the max and learned even more about the arcane practises involved in successful queueing! We saw Rafa and Roger and Mandy and Sue from the Queue! We saw Feliciano Lopez in Wimbledon village. He has arms! And he buys groceries from the artisanal grocers there. Berry commented that he looks a lot more manly in real life and I agree.
We "met" Uncle Toni in the street. He smiled at us as we stood aside to let him pass on a narrow bit of pavement. He's a lot taller and slimmer than he looks on tv. We properly met Mohamed Lahyani! In what has to be the coolest moment of my life to date I told him: "I love your umpiring." He actually looked genuinely delighted. He said 'Bien sur!' when we asked for our pictures with him and posed with each of us.
buckle_berry has those on her camera because mine decided to die right at that point. However Lars Graff just gave me a steely stare when I locked eyes with him in the tunnels under Centre Court. We saw Roger practising on court 14, entirely by accident and good luck. It was at about 10.30am on the Monday. He looked very relaxed. The little court was full of onlookers but the atmosphere was hushed and reverent like we were in church. Berry said it made her feel weird, and I agree. The hushed reverence lasted until he stopped and began to sign things and then it turned into an absolute scrum. He signed for about five minutes and then he was whisked away through the crush by a squad of security guards. I noticed that one woman had a self published book of photos of her and Roger together that he'd signed. She was so happy that she cried. I honestly don't know what to think about that except that it makes me think how strange this whole circus is, really, on some levels.
Through our queueing exploits we got Centre Court tickets for both Monday and Thursday, so we saw two amazing, epic matches: Roger v Alejandro Falla during which we wanted to die right up until the point Roger finally won, and then Rafa v Robin Haase where we actually never properly believed Rafa was in danger of losing but it was still really exciting. Plus multiple shirt changes. Rafa has muscles in his back that normal people just don't have. We also saw Mandy bowing to the Queen!
matildafilch met up with us on Thursday too, although we weren't ale to hang out as much as last year as she had seats right up at the top. Apparently there is still a pretty decent view from there though. And we saw Lars Graff eating a sausage! He gave me a wide berth though. I might've developed a small obsession with umpires this week. Carlos Ramos was in action during Rafa's match, but he mostly seemed to be winking and smiling at a cute linesman while sneaking looks at Rafa while he changed his shirts. We saw umpiring HBIC Pascal Maria several times. Did you know that he can hold three tennis balls in each hand? Cedric Mourier walked past us on the street so we 'met' him too. I saw Erich Molina hanging out near a lift. He is pretty in real life.
Other tennis: JJ v Laura Robson, Feli's first round match, Stan v Istomin, Novak v Olivier Rochus, which was great. They closed Centre Court roof halfway through and played that really interesting documentary about how it was built, and the crowd got silly and did Mexican waves. We didn't see any of Jisner v Mahut as they played the LMOAT (longest match of all time) but I saw the adorable net hugs.
I have a ton of pics of everything!
Look at our delighted faces!
Berry's stylish Wimbledon queue sticker belt buckle. Roger would approve.
Our new boyfriends, the queue stewards. They are so polite and kind! No question is too tedious for them and they have a wealth of facts and statistics at their fingertips.
Wee Roger fans in the queue on Sunday evening.
Our 'picnic' on Sunday afternoon- note the beer. Berry made me eat an apple first on the grounds of health. The two boys in the shot had come from Colombia the day before and had stumbled on the queue quite by accident. They ended up sleeping in the open air with duvets they managed to sneak out of their hotel. At this point we were 570/571 in the queue, so the likelihood of us getting tickets for centre court was very narrow.
A very neat and orderly tent city.
Giant muffins for sale in the artisanal grocers in Wimbledon village. We like to think Feli bought some while he was in here to take round to Rafa's house.
Release the Officials! Monday, day one of the tournament.
Hushed reverence for man hitting ball.
My only decent shot of Feli! It was taken standing on a wall overlooking the court. His match was packed out for some reason, can't think why.
The guy with the highly accurate and technical ball bounce measuring device on Centre Court.
Roger's special cashmere warm up sweater! Nike are very sensible to cloth him in warming wool, especially in a mini-heatwave. Lars Graff the umpire is warning them to avoid the crazy woman who stares at you in the tunnels and to call security if necessary.
It's hard work being this pretty.
Oh Rog, you're always so graceful...
Pointy feets!
The obligatory topless shot.
The obligatory tummy shot.
The unmistakable sauntering of Roger Federer.
Novak and fans
The closing of the roof on Centre Court. This was just after a vigorous bout of Mexican waving.
The roof changes the court entirely - it feels like a different place. The sounds are different too.
6am on Wednesday morning and we're back in the queue.
Putting up the tent.
I fashioned a stylish headgear from a newspaper.
Serious camping happening at the head of the queue. They had a solar shower of which we were jealous.
Wednesday evening outside the tent. I call this one 'Le queuing sur l'herb'
We had scented tealights and lavender tent spray this year.
There were floodlights and a full moon so it didn't get dark much. It's quite hard to sleep in the queue unless you bring earplugs, as there is always someone making noise.
Thursday morning, 7am. This is Sue from the Queue, Sue's friend Pam, and Suzanne and Midge. They have been queueing here for 35 years and have the status of celebrities - they seem to know everyone. They're the only ones allowed to wear oversized hats, transgressing one of the rules in the Guide to Queueing. Being at the front of the queue is not as much fun as you'd think. Frankly they treated us like we were thick nouveau queuers who'd never put up a tent before. I wanted to tell them this was our actual second year queueing but didn't have the energy for a potential backlash. This far up, the queue is ruthlessly self policing.
Sue and Pam and one of the stewards leading the queue to the ticket gates on Thursday morning.
Inside the grounds at last, we found a quiet spot and cracked open our bottle of cava. Tarte suffered in quiet agony from her blisters. As soon as the grounds opened at 9.15 she hobbled/sprinted off and bought all of the Compeed products that the Wimbledon pharmacy could provide.
We wore Tarte's Barry M nail polish in 'Mandy blue'.
The view down from the top of Court 18 as the Queen arrives. I glimpsed the top of her hat.
Looking down from Court 18 across the grounds. The place is packed. I think the top of Court 18 is actually my favourite place to hang out. It's a little haven away from the crowds. There are picnic benches and patches of grass to lie on, shade in the afternoon and tennis to look down on. Its proximity to the press centre means it's possible to spy on John Inverdale and Tim Henman interviewing people. Plus there's a Pimms bar right there.
The Armed Forces volunteer as guards at Wimbledon during their holidays. They are all super polite and charming.
Berry's Mirka Vavrinec impression!
Us preparing ourselves mentally for Mandy's match.
Rafa making sure his water bottles are aligned. He doesn't do this because he's superstitious, by the way. There was a lovely moment at the end of the fourth set where Rafa sent the tiny little ball boy to the fridge for a new bottle of water. The bottle the boy fetched back didn't seem to be the right one, so Rafa got up from his chair, came to the fridge, stuck his head inside and proceeded to rootle about among the identical bottles of water for the one he wanted. The tiny ball boy looked mortified. It was very sweet though. I couldn't help but notice that Rafa bends over straight from the waist down with his legs planted firmly apart, in a way that is totally unselfconscious. Let me just note that this position puts his underpants under a lot of strain in the rear.
I particularly like the, um, lighting in this one.
Rafa looked super concentrated throughout the game. He didn't look up at his box very much but he did have some very stormy expressions on his face.
Rafa emanated an aura of perfect confidence all through the match. His body language never gave away that he was under pressure or was losing, and it seems a vital part of his approach to competing. It's amazing, and it's completely different to Roger. That said, Roger also doesn't give much away.
Rafa's back with his extra muscles.
He hung all his dirty shirts up on the chair next to him very tidily. I think he must've got through about five shirts for this match. I wasn't complaining though.
His new shirt is all rucked up at the back and he actually ran onto court like that, giving everyone something to stare at. He is totally mesmerising whatever he does.
The gloves of the Rafa fans just along from us.
My camera gave out at this point. Woe!
That's all. It was a brilliant week. I feel so lucky to have seen several thrilling matches, plus all the other fun. I have that proper 'I've just been on holiday' feeling.
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Date: 2010-06-27 11:00 pm (UTC)I am going to keep this post open as motivation for saving for next year. SO MUCH LOVE FOR EVERYONE IN THIS POST!!!!!