I can't believe we are almost two months into 2015 without so much as a ball being hit! Where has the year gone? My New Year's resolution was to play more tennis, but in fact I have played less. January began with the horrendous attack on Charlie Hebdo whose offices were just round the corner from our apartment - no-one in Paris felt like going far at that time. Next my tennis partner was away for ten days in Athens for the Greek election. Work, administration (always plenty of that in France!) and trying to sort out a property issue all conspired against me until I stepped out of the apartment to find the crocuses in bloom in a pot on the doorstep and I realised with a jolt that spring was well on the way and I hadn't played a stroke.
It was half-term this week and I knew I needed to get back on court. Everyone else in Paris was away skiing (according to my children who are extremely deprived and hard done by in spite of one of them having already been on a skiing holiday this year). What better way to raise their holiday spirits than with a family four? The weather was utterly dire - the kind of drenching drizzle which makes you feel as though you are in a cloud. I decided on a tried and tested indoor favourite - anxious not to take a risk on my first outing for doubles. Tennis Carnot, Court 3! Also finally a chance to make use of my newly acquired expertise to ensure I booked the best court - greenhouse-type dome rather than open-sided cattle market. A cosy refuge on a dreary day. We bundled ourselves up in waterproofs and set off for the Soviet-style fringes of the Porte de Vincennes. Amazingly taking the kids qualified us for a discount, €9.60 instead of €15, a real surprise considering we were playing in one of the peak lunchtime slots. We arrived in good time to inspect the facilities which included some clean-looking changing rooms and showers, and two hefty blokes seemingly there to stop anyone using them.
Then we walked up the running track - skirting the puddles - to our court. A couple of athletic Frenchmen were still battling it out when we arrived so we waited for them to finish their deciding point before getting out for a warm-up. There really is something very luxurious about having a court entirely to yourself with no chance of disturbing anyone else's game with stray balls nor of anyone else disturbing yours. Also with no chance of anyone losing a ball by hitting it over the netting - a not infrequent occurrence when playing with the kids. They loved it and so did we. We were also fortunate that noone had booked the hour after us so we were able to play on undisturbed. My only complaint was that the net was too high and there was no way of adjusting it - a perfect excuse for fluffed volleys, of course, and the perfect excuse in the event of my son and I losing the set - which of course we didn't! The rain had finally stopped falling when we emerged and some spring blossom in a communal garden left me full of hope that it might not be long before we can play outside again. And hopefully I won't leave it so long this time.
