As the new year starts, most people spiral into a pit of
depression in the UK. There are the bleak winter months to get through, we've all just binged our way through the festive season, and on top of that we're
all in the process of setting ourselves up with unrealistic New Year
resolutions which we know we're ultimately going to fail at.
But not in Australia, oh no! In the southern hemisphere it’s
the height of summer, which means long hot days followed by warm blissful
evenings and weeks on end of glorious sunshine in picture perfect settings…
right? WRONG!
I've literally never experienced
rainfall like that of the Australian summer. And I’m British - I know my rain! Gone
are the days of camping trips in the beautiful English countryside, sheltering
and shivering inside your tent and mumbling something along the lines of "I
wish we lived in Australia where it’s all sunshine and beaches". Now I know it’s
all a massive con. All these years I've thought us Brits had it bad - how
misled we were! Rain here is apocalyptic. It’s either nice weather or it’s the
end of the world. The streets turn to rivers and wind becomes your umbrella's
worst nightmare.
Anyway, January in Australia is where the tennis year kicks
off – which means not only is it the month of the Australian Open, but it's
also a month packed with smaller warm-up ATP and WTA tournaments. So as a treat
to myself, a friend and I booked tickets to the men's final of the APIA International
in Sydney, and were both pretty chuffed that we could, a – afford the tickets in
the first place, and b – were actually attending a final! Dream come true!
Right? WRONG!
On the day of the finals the weather report showed showers.But that was okay, we are British after all. We know how to handle rain delays. But
for the past few weeks, the weather had been what we Brits like to refer to as 'changeable'. Showers were forecast pretty much every day but actually
experiencing them was hit-and-miss.
We arrived at the grounds early – where everything was
already soggy from the earlier showers – and the rain pretty much kicked in
straight away. Heavy drizzle. Fantastic! For anyone who has ever attended a
tennis event, you’ll know that there is nowhere to shelter from the elements.
Rain or shine, it's either the overhanging stands of a show court (flashback to
Wimbledon) or the on-site shop (flashback to Wimbledon again) that provide protection.
An hour of sheltering went by before an announcement came:
play had been suspended due to the rain but they were hoping to start the match
within than half hour. So we filled the gap by getting something to eat. But that
half an hour turned into an hour. Then an hour and a half. Then the rain
stopped! Eagerly taking our seats in the stadium, we settled ourselves in and… then
I witnessed one of the most bizarre rituals I've ever come across at a tennis
event.
Now, I have only ever attended grass-court or indoor tournaments
prior to this, so maybe this isn’t odd at all, but I can’t help but think there
must be a better way to dry a court…
Step 1: Give the ball boys/girls a towel each
Step 2: Line them up
Step 3: Get them to drag their towel across the length of
the court 2 or 3 times
Step 4: Enlist the help of the linesmen and arm them with
leaf-blowing machines
Step 5: Get them to wonder around to court drying out
remaining puddles
Strange, non? Would covers of some form not be easier? I
realise this clearly isn’t the case – my faith is in the hundreds of tennis
professionals that work at these tournaments and venues – it just all seemed a
little bit time-consuming considering the situation.
Anyway - so the court was dry. The players were about to come out…
and then there was another heavy downpour. After which, the drying process was repeated.
And again. And again. Life became a bit like groundhog day. Rain. Bizarre drying
ritual. Rain. Bizarre drying ritual. Rain. Bizarre drying ritual. I witnessed
it happen 4 times. And then play was cancelled for the day. BRILLIANT!
I had moved to the other side of the world, where the
Tourism Australia ads PROMISED year-round sunshine, only to find that it’s
actually just as rainy (if not more) than England, And tennis events here not only
get suspended due to rain, they also get fully cancelled.
So off we trudged – getting soaked by the rain (neither of
us had an umbrella) and piling into a freezing bus (air-con was up full whack
as it’s summer – there appears to be a rule that during summer, no matter how
hot or cold it is, air con is always on!) that would take us back to the
station. Game over.
