the Oz Open champion practising on the outer court.
It was good to arrive three hours early, remember what I told myself, always be early especially in Rome, where you never know when the next bus is coming. I had prepared myself with bread, ham and cheese for a long day at the courts. It's cloudy but still hot, God knows what it's like hère in summer. I am quite well prepared but no sun screen, just a cap and long sleeved shirt. It's very relaxed hère at thé moment but am sure it will change once the stars are on court. I am hoping to see Nadal and Federer but am happy whatever.
I haven't said it before, but it's obvious, the Italians enjoy life, even in its adversities. for most people, life is quite hard, just work, sleep, eat, and play when you can. Like the couple at the caffe Siciliano yesterday. He was a type like Marcello Mastroianni, and she was a veritable puta. Big breasted and small waisted, high heels and painted lips. I noticed her arrive at the caffe and descend to the toilets, the sign said Sgre e Sgras, and I had wondered if if was a communale toilet. Ten minutes later emerged from the doorway, she, perfectly coiffed still, and close by, he, trying not to look like a cat who's just had his milk. Today I went to the toilet, for all the legitimate reasons, and discovered it was a perfect place for a dangerous liaison, soundproof and large enough for anyone, or two, to have a good time. Well those two were a busy couple who needed just ten minutes for the necessities of life in Bella Roma.
I haven't said it before, but it's obvious, the Italians enjoy life, even in its adversities. for most people, life is quite hard, just work, sleep, eat, and play when you can. Like the couple at the caffe Siciliano yesterday. He was a type like Marcello Mastroianni, and she was a veritable puta. Big breasted and small waisted, high heels and painted lips. I noticed her arrive at the caffe and descend to the toilets, the sign said Sgre e Sgras, and I had wondered if if was a communale toilet. Ten minutes later emerged from the doorway, she, perfectly coiffed still, and close by, he, trying not to look like a cat who's just had his milk. Today I went to the toilet, for all the legitimate reasons, and discovered it was a perfect place for a dangerous liaison, soundproof and large enough for anyone, or two, to have a good time. Well those two were a busy couple who needed just ten minutes for the necessities of life in Bella Roma.
Back to the tennis. Outside court it is now the boys turn, but I don't recognise anyone, damn!
However it's actually much cooler outside, or is it just that the clouds have appeared. It's going to be a long hot day, and btw, just in case you want a hit of sugar, don't bring along a bar of chocolate, which I did, and which is now a mess of melted brown caramel in the packet. I dare not open it. Well I've never even been to an Open before, and I don't know these things. There are many die-hard tennis tragics around me and I dont think they bring chocolaté!
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