Yesterday, I hung out by the pool of the Novotel Hotel as I do most Sundays. A friend of mine came and we played tennis on their red clay courts. We almost had a ball boy too. We told him he could be our ball boy, then he asked me if I wanted a new grip. I told him I didn’t, but somehow, lost in translation, he then left. So we picked up our own balls. After we finished, we returned to our friends at the poolside and ordered another round of beers. It was all very colonial.

Next week we’re going to play again. This time with the ballboy and the lines judge (Apparently, you get the package deal for $2, so why not?).