Well, we’ve finally made it to the last day, but the weather is not being cooperative. It’s been raining on and off all morning, and they are now predicting about a 2 to 3 hour dry spell starting around 2:30. Hopefully the two R’s can finish their final in this time.
Meanwhile, I’ll tell you about the dinner Chuck Culpepper, who is the L.A. Times writer and I had last night. With Rafa in the final today, we decided it was a good thing to try his favorite restaurant in London. Kind of an homage to Rafa.
The restaurant Cambio de Tercio,was awarded the prestigious Premios Alimentos de Espana, 2004 as the best Spanish restaurant in any country of the world outside of Spain, by the Minister of Agriculture, Fishing and Food. Pretty impressive. The restaurant is small, and when we arrived we were told that they had overbooked they had to put us at their more casual restaurant across the street.
We were not too happy about this, and I toyed with the idea of telling them that we were journalists working at Wimbledon and that we were planning to write about the restaurant, but I hate to pull this, so we gave in and went across the street. It turned out to be great. The Tendio Cero is more casual and serves mainly a menu of Tapa’s, which I love. Everything was wonderful, and after knocking off a great bottle of red wine, we really didn’t care in which place we were eating.
Both restaurants are open to the sidewalk and we had a table in the front so we could “Rafa watch” easily. He never turned up, but we could hear the waiters talking about the fact that he had been there several times during the tournament. Chuck wants to go back tonight after the final, but we’ll have to wait and see what time we get out of here.
I got up early this morning so I could go to Covent Garden before the match. This former produce market with a history dating back to the 1600, is now filled with trendy shops and restaurants. On Saturday and Sundays the Apple Market and the Jubilee Hall Market feature a variety of high quality crafts, antiques, jewelry, clothing and gifts. I’m up for a little shopping therapy, but this is deterred by the sky high prices in London, and the rock bottom low of the US dollar. Never mind, I intend to enjoy my last morning in London anyway. As I wander though the market, I keep thinking of Eliza Doolittle in My Fair Lady, selling her flowers in this market, and wonder what stories these streets could tell
There’s an attractive Pub advertising breakfast,
so I decide to give it a try and soak in a little atmosphere at the same time. The menu features a “Traditional English breakfast” I know what this means, beans on toast, bangers (fat greasy sausages), thick fat, greasy bacon, fried eggs, and fried tomatoes. Yes, I said beans on toast. I’m not kidding. That is not a typo. They actually eat canned baked beans, the Heinz 57 variety with that sort of watery pink sauce on toast. Needless to say, I opt for a waffle and cappuccino.
They get the match on around 2:30, just like they said, they are amazingly good at predicting weather here, and I find my way to my seat.
The pit is crowded with photographers and cameras. Fortunately I’m sitting between two thin guys.
Fast forward. 5:20 PM. We are in rain delay. Of course. Things were going too well out there. Rafa is up 2 sets to love and the score was 4 all in the third. He just needed to win two more games, and we could have gotten out of here. It’s freezing and dark. I’m sitting in the pit wearing a sweatshirt and my French Open Jacket zipped up to my neck with the hood pulled up. I’m silently begging Rafa to win the next game, but he’s not cooperative, and Federer goes up 5-4. Darn. This is probably going 4 sets. I glance to my right and see the rain crew ready and waiting. One of them moves to the net that protects them from flying balls… huge drops start to fall they run onto the court, pull the cover, and that’s it. We all make our way back to the press center to wait the next break in the rain.
Second rain delay. It’s 8 PM and I haven’t had anything to eat since breakfast. I run up to the press dining room and find that the only thing they have left are steak pies. Normally, I wouldn’t dream of eating one of these, but I don’t want to faint from hunger so I go for it. Note the wooden utensils. Only at Wimbledon. The rest of the world uses plastic.
Okay, we’ve made it through 2 rain delays, it’s darker and colder with arctic wind, I can barely shoot my hands are so cold. The ball children are still working in only shorts and short sleeved polo’s. Didn’t anyone think of getting sweaters or jackets for them? There are going to be a lot of kids with colds tomorrow.
This is a great match, the air is thick with tension, but the weather is so awful I just want it to be over. It goes to 7 all in the fifth, and I’m wondering how long this can go on. There is no tiebreaker in the fifth at grand slams, they just keep playing until someone wins by two. It is really dark now, the photographers aren’t shooting, everyone is just waiting for match point, and we already know that we aren’t going to get anything great because of the horrible light... or I should say lack of light.
Rafa breaks Roger at 7 all and is serving for the match at 8-7, he finally hits an ace, and falls on the ground in celebration at 9:20 PM.
This is an historic match for Nadal. He is the first Spanish male to win the title since Manolo Santana in 1966, and I would love to have some wonderful photos, but it’s not going to happen tonight. We do the trophy photos, and I head back to the press center to edit and transmit.
It’s 11:40 PM and I have to wrap it up even though there is a lot more I’d like to say about the match. This is the final blog for Wimbledon 2008, I hope you’ve enjoyed this little journey with me.
Cynthia
Meanwhile, I’ll tell you about the dinner Chuck Culpepper, who is the L.A. Times writer and I had last night. With Rafa in the final today, we decided it was a good thing to try his favorite restaurant in London. Kind of an homage to Rafa.
The restaurant Cambio de Tercio,was awarded the prestigious Premios Alimentos de Espana, 2004 as the best Spanish restaurant in any country of the world outside of Spain, by the Minister of Agriculture, Fishing and Food. Pretty impressive. The restaurant is small, and when we arrived we were told that they had overbooked they had to put us at their more casual restaurant across the street.
We were not too happy about this, and I toyed with the idea of telling them that we were journalists working at Wimbledon and that we were planning to write about the restaurant, but I hate to pull this, so we gave in and went across the street. It turned out to be great. The Tendio Cero is more casual and serves mainly a menu of Tapa’s, which I love. Everything was wonderful, and after knocking off a great bottle of red wine, we really didn’t care in which place we were eating.
Both restaurants are open to the sidewalk and we had a table in the front so we could “Rafa watch” easily. He never turned up, but we could hear the waiters talking about the fact that he had been there several times during the tournament. Chuck wants to go back tonight after the final, but we’ll have to wait and see what time we get out of here.
I got up early this morning so I could go to Covent Garden before the match. This former produce market with a history dating back to the 1600, is now filled with trendy shops and restaurants. On Saturday and Sundays the Apple Market and the Jubilee Hall Market feature a variety of high quality crafts, antiques, jewelry, clothing and gifts. I’m up for a little shopping therapy, but this is deterred by the sky high prices in London, and the rock bottom low of the US dollar. Never mind, I intend to enjoy my last morning in London anyway. As I wander though the market, I keep thinking of Eliza Doolittle in My Fair Lady, selling her flowers in this market, and wonder what stories these streets could tell
There’s an attractive Pub advertising breakfast,
so I decide to give it a try and soak in a little atmosphere at the same time. The menu features a “Traditional English breakfast” I know what this means, beans on toast, bangers (fat greasy sausages), thick fat, greasy bacon, fried eggs, and fried tomatoes. Yes, I said beans on toast. I’m not kidding. That is not a typo. They actually eat canned baked beans, the Heinz 57 variety with that sort of watery pink sauce on toast. Needless to say, I opt for a waffle and cappuccino.They get the match on around 2:30, just like they said, they are amazingly good at predicting weather here, and I find my way to my seat.
The pit is crowded with photographers and cameras. Fortunately I’m sitting between two thin guys.Fast forward. 5:20 PM. We are in rain delay. Of course. Things were going too well out there. Rafa is up 2 sets to love and the score was 4 all in the third. He just needed to win two more games, and we could have gotten out of here. It’s freezing and dark. I’m sitting in the pit wearing a sweatshirt and my French Open Jacket zipped up to my neck with the hood pulled up. I’m silently begging Rafa to win the next game, but he’s not cooperative, and Federer goes up 5-4. Darn. This is probably going 4 sets. I glance to my right and see the rain crew ready and waiting. One of them moves to the net that protects them from flying balls… huge drops start to fall they run onto the court, pull the cover, and that’s it. We all make our way back to the press center to wait the next break in the rain.
Second rain delay. It’s 8 PM and I haven’t had anything to eat since breakfast. I run up to the press dining room and find that the only thing they have left are steak pies. Normally, I wouldn’t dream of eating one of these, but I don’t want to faint from hunger so I go for it. Note the wooden utensils. Only at Wimbledon. The rest of the world uses plastic.
Okay, we’ve made it through 2 rain delays, it’s darker and colder with arctic wind, I can barely shoot my hands are so cold. The ball children are still working in only shorts and short sleeved polo’s. Didn’t anyone think of getting sweaters or jackets for them? There are going to be a lot of kids with colds tomorrow.
This is a great match, the air is thick with tension, but the weather is so awful I just want it to be over. It goes to 7 all in the fifth, and I’m wondering how long this can go on. There is no tiebreaker in the fifth at grand slams, they just keep playing until someone wins by two. It is really dark now, the photographers aren’t shooting, everyone is just waiting for match point, and we already know that we aren’t going to get anything great because of the horrible light... or I should say lack of light.
Rafa breaks Roger at 7 all and is serving for the match at 8-7, he finally hits an ace, and falls on the ground in celebration at 9:20 PM.
This is an historic match for Nadal. He is the first Spanish male to win the title since Manolo Santana in 1966, and I would love to have some wonderful photos, but it’s not going to happen tonight. We do the trophy photos, and I head back to the press center to edit and transmit.
It’s 11:40 PM and I have to wrap it up even though there is a lot more I’d like to say about the match. This is the final blog for Wimbledon 2008, I hope you’ve enjoyed this little journey with me.
Cynthia
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