Les Gémaux St Aygulf 2: Court out by rain

Rain soaked Riviera: Saint Tropez under water after storms caused flash floods in the town centre

Playing everyday for two weeks, I felt this court deserved a second post - particularly in view of the turn of events. The hottest ever temperatures recorded in France broke with an almighty storm that saw us almost stranded by flash flooding in Saint Tropez. Thunder, lightning and torrential rain brought a spectacular end to the heatwave and were too much for the drains of Saint Tropez to cope with. We battled home through the storm, which raged all night and awoke to calm skies ready for a morning match.

The calm after the storm (picture by Sophie Jackson)

 Unfortunately the downpour was more than a match for the tennis court drainage system and - rather like the streets of Saint Tropez - there was an extensive flood in the back quarter when we arrived at 10am. Undaunted, and much to the amusement of an elderly Frenchman enjoying his breakfast on an overlooking balcony, my son and I waded in and set to clearing the drainage channels along the side of the court which were blocked with pine needles and other debris. The weather was now perfect for tennis - slightly cooler after the storm and with a gentle breeze. There was not a moment to lose - we had to play. I had cleared snow before from tennis courts in Ealing with the Will to Win Ladies; I wasn't going to let a bit of water stand in the way of a game. Armed with the broom from our apartment we cleared three drainage holes (two of which weren't even immediately visible) and gradually (and rather satisfyingly) the water began to drain from the court. With the help of the blazing Côte d'Azur sunshine, it was soon dry enough to play on. Our spectator applauded our efforts, chuckling at our enthusiasm and determination - court maintenance par excellence. It was our best game yet - the drainage operation had proved the perfect warm up - and my son and I notched up another victory. 

Abuse of racket: Sophie's (right)

Two days later it was my daughter's racket which brought a halt to proceedings. "New balls please!" is a common enough cry, "New rackets please!" less so. She had somehow managed to knock her racket head out of shape (I suspect abuse of racket in a fit of pique at a disputed line call).  She played on valiantly however until we could make an emergency dash to a nearby sports shop to buy a new one. My husband also decided to treat himself, convinced that all that stood between him and victory was a better racket. There are worse holiday souvenirs - at least these will be put to good use back home though a trip to a sports shop is not my usual idea of a holiday outing.