InsideOut Travel—Queue in Wimbledon

by Jennifer Zangwill

One day, my roommate asked me: “When you look back to this year in London, what will you remember more, another day of work or going to Wimbledon?”

How could I possibly argue with her logic? Subsidized by teaching Britain’s youth, Becky and I were determined to immerse ourselves in British culture and take part in as many of the quintessential British pastimes as possible.

That’s how we found ourselves in the unexpectedly stagnant queue near the grounds of the Lawn Tennis Championship in the hopes of seeing some great tennis matches. Instead, we experienced hundreds of people on the street, pitching tents, setting up lawn chairs and tossing around friendly banter.

	ENGLISH SPOKEN HERE
	Queue in Wimbledon
	by Jennifer Zangwill One day, my roommate asked me: “When you look back to this year in London, what will you remember more, another day of work or going to Wimbledon?” How could I possibly argue with her logic? Subsidized by teaching Britain’s youth, Becky and I were determined to immerse ourselves in British culture and take part in as many of the quintessential British pastimes as possible. That’s how we found ourselves in the unexpectedly stagnant queue near the grounds of the Lawn Tennis Championship in the hopes of seeing some great tennis matches. Instead, we experienced hundreds of people on the street, pitching tents, setting up lawn chairs and tossing around friendly banter.				“Nice tent, mate. Particularly love the big happy face on the outside. Did you borrow that from your son or daughter?” “Do you mind if I share your telly to watch the football?” “Have you placed any bets on tomorrow’s matches?” Before giving it a second thought, I was creeping into a quiet alleyway to call my boss—cough, cough, sniffle, sniffle—feigning illness. "It is quite literally raining cats and dogs out here,” we could hear a muffled voice communicating. “I think a Chihuahua has just fallen on my head.” I was happy with my decision to stay however, there was a small complication. As we glanced up and down the street at the masses of people chugging lager while setting up camp, we became increasingly more aware of how ill-prepared we were. Not only did we have absolutely no beer, but we had no more that the clothes on our backs to get us through the night. more >> << home << discuss article >>
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ENGLISH SPOKEN HERE

by Jennifer Zangwill