The best Wimbledon Britishness

For the first time in my life I went to Wimbledon. It was last Saturday and it rained. A lot.

Let me take you through my day.

First, we woke up at 5am in order to ensure we would be able to get grounds tickets. We arrived at Wimbledon at 6:40ish and joined the queue which looked a bit like this:

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Even at that time, there were so many people waiting. This may look a bit chaotic but don’t worry, I’ll get to that later.

Needless to say, it was important for me to get my queue face on:

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I think mine was pretty solid.

After 5 hours of queuing and plenty of freebies (sunglasses, poncho, coffee, bag and a newspaper) we finally arrived @wimbledon (just to the left of the Wimbledon sign is an @ symbol which I didn’t dignify by taking a picture of it):

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So we went through the gates and made our way to court 12 to see a bit of ladies doubles, followed by ladies singles and then some men’s singles. It was going to be a good day.

A small spattering of rain meant that the covers were on and we waited for about half an hour for them to finally come off and play could begin. Incidentally, the people in green who deal with all the covers and what-not look like they have an amazing job!

 

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The security guard on the left turned out to be a bit of a joker. I can’t remember what exactly it was he said but it was definitely ‘dad-joke’ territory.

Unfortunately, the sky opened up and the rains came down after only 20 minutes of play. The covers were put back on and we stayed in our seats, hoping it would only last a few minutes.

In the meantime, we spotted some platform Converse which tread that border between amazing and ridiculous:

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That girl was rocking them.

Sadly the rain kept falling and poured down for the next 5 hours. We spent our time wandering around the ground, getting free strawberries and cream, watching centre court on Murray Mound and drinking incredibly concentrated Robinson’s squash. It wasn’t the best of times.

Eventually we wondered into court 3, sat down in the rain and waited.

Finally it stopped. The covers came off and we got some tennis under way. Bouchard was playing Petkovic and the former got my whole-hearted support .

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Overall, we watched some good tennis and had a good day, it just took a long time to get started.

Anyway, earlier I said I would mention the queuing again. Well, the queuing at Wimbledon really is something else. I’ve never seen such regimentation and organisation of a queue in my life. It felt so British.

Although that above picture of the queue looks like a rabble, we all knew where we stood.

On entry, you’re given a queue card and A Guide To Queuing. The queue card gives you your number to prevent dirty pusher-inners (I was 4679 or something…) and the guide is something of brilliance.

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This is a 25-page guide on how to deal with The Queue. It’s important to capitalise The Queue because that is how important it is.

There are also queuing zones and a giant flag with a big ‘Q’ on it. Basically, Wimbledon do British well and they do queuing even better.

It’s really part of the experience.

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