Box Ticking

So when you move to a city like London there are any number of things you 'just have to do' in order to get the full experience. That is, you a long list of things with a box next to each one and must tick off the box in order to claim genuine Londoner status.

So with the grand depart fast coming up I have been madly trying to tick off as many boxes as possible in the last month so that I can say that I did it. (some bridge)

It all started last weekend when old Joe Knorks and I had a grand day out to get a number of boxes ticked. We started with the V and A museum - which is basically a homage to the great tradition of Brits stealing the best things another culture has to offer. Quite a good museum though, lots to see, some cool sculptures etc. Then we went to Harrods - which is big, you have to give it that. The notable part of the store was the Wimbledon range of clothing - was very close to buying the best cardigan that has ever been knitted, but couldn't justify 500 Aussie dollars for a cardy. Finally we set off for the river in order to find the MI6 building - I know what your thinking - in Golden Eye Bond gets from the MI6 building, past the eye and bast the millennium dome within about 30 seconds of each other - but it turns out they are in three distinctly different parts of the city.

(Half expected to run into Kapitan Kloss - but he must have been inside)

So with the wind in our sails and three boxes ticked in one afternoon we decided to have another go at ticking some boxes this last Wendesday - by going to Wimbledon to see some tennis. I left work mid afternoon on a slightly overcast day with expectations of seeing a solid couple of hours of Tennis - but conditions would conspire to screw me.

I got the overland from Waterloo to Wimbledon, intending to meet Joe Knorks and catch a bus to the Championships, but was surprised to walk out of Wimbledon station straight onto centre court:

(Wimbledon Centre Court - Smaller then you would expect)

(Four Time, Four Time, Four Time, Four Time Wimbledon Champion - or could it have been a look alike considering what was happening on Court 1 at the actual Wimbledon at the time?)

Anyways, I was quite surprised to walk out of the station straight into a Roger Federer match, I watched for a few minutes and started to realize that the reason he was has won so easily for so many years was the quality of his opponents- it appeared he was playing school girls! Then I realized that this wasn't the actual wimbledons and was more a promo type thing.

Right then - I had to wait for Joe Knorks, I got there ten minutes early but expected her to be there considering she had nothing else to do that day. But Joe Knorks being who she is managed to keep me waiting till 4:30, I was annoyed but not that annoyed (I'm not that big a tennis fan, we were really only going to tick the box after all) there was some nice sun, and laughing at all the people who were asking the fake Roger Federer for autographs was good. Anyways, Joe Knorks finally arrived so we headed off for the championships - or should I more accurately say the queue - a central part of the Wimbledon's experience.

(Was more then prepared to give a mouth full to the smug jerk who gave me my 'Guide for Queueing for the Championships' but Joe Knorks stopped me as there were children present)

So we stood around in the queue until about 5 when all of a sudden it started to rain - just as we got to go into the ticket area - no problem we thought, just a quick delay, will give us a chance to get the lay of the land and find some booze. But oh were we wrong.

(Joe Knorks with a Pimms at Wimbledon - thirty years to the day her parents where there. Could the Wimbledon Pimms be the reason she is with us today???)

(Just one for the Old Grey Mare - you wouldn't get away with that sort of health and saftey risk in Oz).

So it rained for maybe 6 minutes, enough time for us to get into the courts, find a pimms, and inspect the facilities. We went straight to court 8 to get a good seat in order to watch the Stubbs doubles match that was nearing conclusion. We sat down and waited.

(Rain delay Wimbledon Style - no your not wrong- that's sunlight in the back ground not rain - oh so they would be playing then you say - apparently not)

and waited and waited. (hang on Race 7 is about to start, hopefully the Kiwi's can make this go into a couple more races - Massa has the French gp all sown up - no Raikonnin got him in the pit stops)

I'm back the race hasn't started yet... where were we? oh waiting, and waiting.

The sun came out, I worked on my tan, but I didn't see any tennis - Why? because British people are the biggest girlie men that ever lived - after 10 minutes I was a little bit annoyed, after 20 disgruntled, after 40 - pissed off. The organizer finally came over the loud speaker to announce that there was still rain around - could have fulled me, but just to prove his point we got a minutes worth of drizzle just after he spoke.

That minutes worth of rain cost us another 40 mins of waiting (we were drinking during this break so it wasn't that bad) we used this time to walk all around and see the sights - the show courts, henman hill, etc. And finally the loud speaker crackled to life again and he said THE SAME THING - once again a light drizzle happened and we settled in to wait again. You have to understand that even though it was now 7 pm we have sun light till 10 pm at the moment so there was still a chance to see some tennis.

Finally at 8 pm the loud speaker came on again and announced that the covers were coming off - but he covered himself by saying that there was some rain just west of the courts and if it hit we were fucked. The covers came off to loud cheers from the few die hards who had hung on in desperation.

(A Tennis Court)

So they got the covers off and we started to look around for the players (we all know the reason I was there was to see fit chicks in short skirts). but the only thing we saw was suddenly a lot of court attendants listening to their radios - to our outrage (and this time I did give them a mouthful - long evening on the beers by this time) they started to put the covers back on!

(When the rain came it came hard)

The rain then hit, and hit properly, the loud speaker came to life and announced that their would be no play that day - the dream was over.

So deafeted we then started the two hour journey home - Wimbledon, and the softness of the British people in general certainly got bad mouthed for the entire journey home.

Anyways, I didn't see any tennis - so I don't really know if I can tick the box or not, but thats ok - I don't care, I will never go back.