Travels with my mother (part 2)

I don't know, you wait years for a mother-daughter trip and then two come along at once. This trip was inspired by last year's Wimbledon trip. Mum has watched Wimbledon forever, well she doesn't remember Fred Perry or nowt, but a few years anyway. So this year it was my great pleasure to announce that once again I had tickets and mum was in! Way to score Daughter Points, Tina!

So at the end of June we were off. In order to make it a real trip we, of course, scheduled a trip to the theatre. Mum wanted to see Billy Elliot. Happy with my points from obtaining tickets, I vetoed it. We settled instead on Pygmalion. Sure the dancing and songs aren't as good, but the acting and the writing?! Tip top. Rupert Everett and Kara Tointon were in it, and they were ace. I tweeted afterwards that it reminded me of being in Mrs. Brown's English Lit class only with better actors. Actually, I can't be absolutely sure we ever acted it out, all I remember from Mrs. Brown's English class is her furiously writing notes on the blackboard, us geeks at the front writing them down and girls at the back asking if we had any magazines to read. Active learning my ass.

The next day we were off to SW19. It was men's quarterfinals day. On Centre Roger Federer was playing against Jo-Wilfred Tsonga and then Andy Murray against Feliciano Lopez. If you know my tennis preferences at all, you'll know I'm not greatly fond of Federer. He seems a nice enough man, sure. Til there's a record to be beaten and out he comes with his specially made jacket with his big RF all over it to wear for the presentation. What a big head! You also might know that I love Rafa Nadal. A lot. But that's not important for this story, he was playing on Court 1.

We went to the same entrance that Ruth and I used last year so Mum could see what it's like courtside.

This man appeared through the door. I don't think he plays on the tour.

Then we hung around the Press Centre. Right beside Roger was warming up.

You can imagine my excitement.

Martina Navratilova and Jana Novotna were playing on Court 18 and so we waited for them to walk past. While we waited I got talking to a man in a shirt and tie. Throughout the course of our conversation it emerged he worked for the ATP as an announcer and used to umpire matches (including some of Navratilova's wins at Wimbledon and Stefan Edberg's win in the 1980s). He was a super nice man and we had a lovely chat.

All the while we were waiting there was a young fella walking around. Only later that evening we realised it was future British star Liam Broady. Should have taken a picture of him. But he hadn't beaten the world number 1 at that point!

Honestly, you hang around for twenty minutes and then a stupid woman with a ponytail walks infront of your photo of Martina and Jana. I'm shaking my fist at you Ponytail Lady!

 Before too long we were back to Centre Court, ready for play to start.

The royal box was getting full. It was exciting to get texts from Ruth watching at home, telling us who to look out for. Such celebs as Amanda Holden, Les Ferdinand, Greg Norman, Lewis Hamilton Michael Caine, and Sir Cliff. Then the exciting news came through that Pippa Middleton was there! It quickly became apparent she wasn't in the royal box, but with only a red dress to go on it took a while to find her. But find her I did!

I lent her that red dress.

Oh yes. There was tennis too. We didn't have a spectator meeting beforehand or anything, but there was definitely a feeling that the big match that day was going to be the Murray match. Well no one told Tsonga that. After coming out and losing his first service game and the first two sets he woke up. Bam. It was a brilliant match, and not just because he was beating Federer.

Please enjoy this video of match point. Whooping, hollering and shaky camera work included. But look at his little victory dance. Bless.

Like I said, no one really expected it to be as good a match as it was. Or that it would go to five sets. By the time Murray came on, there the court was about two-thirds full. I, myself, went out during the first set. After some crap directions to the bathrooms from an employee I chanced upon this view of Henman Hill.

Bunged.

Murray made short work of Lopez and was soon walking off, safely through to the semis. 

He passed by our old seats. Still, I'd have Rafa's autograph any day over Murray's. No offence, like.

To finish the day off with we had some doubles. Todd Woodbridge and Jonas Bjorkman against Cedric Pioline and Barry Cowan. Yes, no I'd never heard of him either. Apparently he was a doubles player back in the day.

Boom.

And so that was that.

A good day was had by all.

Except for possibly my mother, who got food poisoning from something that day. Though she'd probably prefer if I didn't tell that story I will say it's miserable to be that sick away from home.

The next day I went into London town by myself. I had about two hours to walk around. But I consider it quite successful as I found my dress for graduation (in about 5 minutes, I thank you), saw the Olympics countdown clock, bought a Krispy Kreme doughnut, and went to Covent Garden.

In Covent Garden Tube Station I just about lost it with a woman. I couldn't get through the barriers because my Oyster card needed more money on it. It had started to rain and the tiniest Tube Station in the world became rammed. I fought my way back to the window (the one window) and queued. Imagine my joy when the woman in front of me wanted to have discussion about how best to get her group of 17 to wherever and what sort of ticket was best to buy. I bit my tongue and said nothing.

However, when it came to paying I could not remain silent when she turned to the group of 17, scattered throughout the station (which was rammed, remember) and asked that each person bring her £1.50 to pay for their ticket. I might have told her that wasn't the best way to do things. She might have replied that she had no choice. Then I might have replied and said with great exasperation 'This is London'.

Two days in London and I became a huffy Londoner. Well, when in Rome...