The joys of Henley Royal Regatta…
I’m in a horribly good mood today. As is the rest of the UK. After my call for toughening up tennis last week Andy Murray showed us all what real sportsmen look like and was a gladiator on Centre Court winning Wimbledon in three glorious (if stressful to watch) sets.
The only downside is I don’t have any fingernails left. But before the match I would have happily handed over my fingernails, toenails and any other nails I happened to have on my person in return for the victory.
Thankfully my hands were still pristine last week when I had my first experience of one of England’s most traditional of days out. Henley Regatta. Or Henley Royal Regatta to give it its official title.
Those of you who haven’t been might understandably think it’s about rowing. And perhaps it is but I saw very little evidence of rowing appreciation. (Plenty of rowers appreciation though especially from my four girlfriends). The event may as well be called Henley Royal Champagne Drinking for all the attention the thousands of people on the banks of the Thames gave to the little boats passing by every now and then.
Most of our attention went on enjoying the sunshine, passing comment on the array of beautiful (and not so beautiful) outfits of our fellow Regatta-rers walking by, and staying far enough away from the water to guarantee not ending up in it.
After a near perfect day I was glad we had decided not to return to London that night. Not least because I might have struggled to operate my front door (Champagne is my alcohol nemesis). Instead we spent the night at the nearby Danesfield House Hotel. This place wins awards so regularly they must be getting a bit bored of it. The most notable being the Most Relaxing Spa award. That’s the rubber stamp I want to see. Not best spa or prettiest spa or spa with the weirdest panpipe music.
And I’m very pleased to announce that the award was definitely handed to the right place. I was asleep about nine minutes after getting onto the massage table. A personal best.
Right, I must dash. Much like everyone else in the country I’m playing tennis tonight… with Henry.