In the Purple

Yesterday to Wimbledon with Robert. A generous friend gave us his tickets.

We saw Djokovic easily beat Australian, Kokkinakis; R thought Djokovic had plenty of fuel in his tank and was conserving his energy for the rounds to come. Then Raducanu was out-gunned by Caroline Garcia (France) and the last match was Murray against American giant John Isner. He is 6ft 10 inches, towering over Murray who is a respectable 6ft 2 inches but was dwarfed by the American. Height is an advantage playing tennis, no doubt why John Bercow’s tennis career faltered before his political career did likewise.

Ticketing has recently become electronic but to stop constantly showing them on a ‘phone there were purple lanyards available. It was like sitting in a convocation of bishops with so much purple around our necks and we were encouraged to take them home as souvenirs of a special day out – a rite of summer.

To digress, I notice that Robert is starting to exhibit many of Bertie’s traits. Yesterday he doggedly insisted on driving to Wimbledon because he thought it would be quicker than taking the tube – it was and he found on-street parking about ten minutes walk away from the tennis. I would have eaten my panama if I I’d had it with me.

Our young peregrine falcon went missing for three days but came home yesterday. The first thing she did was to have a bath.