Melbourne: Tennis Fever

The sun was baking the city of Melbourne; the wind hit our faces like a blast from a furnace when we stepped out of the airport. Though only an hour flight from Tasmania, Melbourne was a whole different world. The bay was lined with palm trees; brightly colored cockatoos flew about squawking into the breeze. There was a heaviness in the air. I must admit we were confused about how thick the air felt and how difficult it was to breathe. Then we remembered a time before we lived on the dusty plains of Mongolia, when we lived in the muggy swamp of Washington, DC; it was just the humidity getting to us.

Thankfully, the next day the temperatures cooled off a bit. We left town early on a Yarra Valley wine tour with our guide, Sharon, who would share her inside knowledge of the region's best wines. The Yarra Valley has a long history as a wine producing region in Australia, dating back to a couple Irish brothers who moved west in the mid-1800s from New South Wales looking for a nice location for a homestead. They ended up in the Yarra Valley, with beautiful views of the surrounding hills. They planted their grapevines and the first vineyard in the valley was created.

Later, during the Great Depression, all the vines were ripped out to open up more land for growing crops, but the industry has made a comeback in the last twenty years. The Yarra Valley specializes in chardonnays and pinot noirs, two wines we do not usually drink; but for today, we would give them all a taste.

Joining us on our tour were Roger Pierce, a newly published British thriller author and his wife; they had been to Australia many times before, coming here often for vacations. I suppose they felt the need to escape that depressing English winter. Though, coming from Mongolia, I cannot understand why; I would love an English winter about now. (Last I checked the temperatures were dropping to -40 Fahrenheit back home). We were also joined by two middle aged sisters from Philadelphia and their friend Gina. They had just flown in the night before, and were very enthusiastic tennis fans. The last members of our tour group were some friends who met in Moscow on a tour. They were from New York, Texas, and Melbourne; just having a reunion to relive old times. They were the loudest people of the group. Cameron, the one who lives in Melbourne, was also the most colorful; he sported sleeve tattoos, a lip ring, and long blond dreadlocks, though the sides of his head were shaved giving him a dread-hawk. He looked very dignified swirling and sipping his wine all day. They had been up until 3:30 the previous night, watching tennis and drinking whiskey. Overall, we may have been the most rested of the group having only travelled from Tasmania the day before.

Wine tastings are tough; we went from winery to winery surrounded by beautiful scenery and sampled the best wine the Yarra Valley has to offer. We picked up a chardonnay and a pinot noir in the process, and were already a little tipsy by lunch time. I tried to do my best to taste the wine, taking a good smell with each glass and holding the wine in my mouth with each sip; trying to use all my taste buds, which was a challenge since some of the poor buggers get very little use with the cuisine in Ulaanbaatar. Tastes of fresh fruits and delicate spices are not to be found in the Mongolian capital.

At the end of the day, the group was talking boisterously and mostly unable to distinguish differences in taste, anyway; our taste buds having been completely overloaded by a day full of so many robust flavors they were going numb; or maybe that was the alcohol. We returned to Melbourne in a blissful fog, only to be dropped off suddenly on the curb; Sharon was not too keen on holding up the traffic. The group immediately set off in different directions with a quick goodbye, and we were back to exploring the city on our own.

While wine tasting was fun, we had really come to Melbourne for the tennis. The Australian Open was going on, and the city was in a tennis fever. It seemed around every corner, we would walk by someone talking about tennis; at breakfast in our hotel, every table was talking about the matches the night before and what might happen in today's excitement. Embracing this spirit, and the Hisence Arena tickets we purchased way back in November, we set off the next day for a day of tennis to put all other days of tennis to shame. Basically what this meant is that, since we had purchased tickets for this day, we would have to watch tennis all day; no breaks of more than the time needed for the court to switch over would be allowed.

Hisence Arena

We were in for a good lineup in Hisence Arena. First, Ana Ivanovic was on the court. She won in straight sets, never really being pushed. At the end of her match she blew kisses to the crowd. Jo-Wilfried Tsonga played next, and the crowd became very animated; apparently, he has many fans at the Australian Open. Most of his fans seemed to be middle aged women who screamed every time he changed his shirt (okay, there were some younger ladies, too, but they were not as entertaining to me). At the end of his match, which he also won in straight sets, he jumped in the air and twirled around for his victory dance, with French fans cheering, "Allez!". We also saw Petra Kvitova play, the current women's #2ranked player and Wimbledon champion. She dropped a set, though, and was lucky to move on past Carla Suarez Navarro, whose slicing backhand had Kvitova hitting the ball long all match.

Ana Ivanovic!

Tsonga!

Finally, Andy Murray arrived on court for the last match of the day. He is called the "Great White Hope" in the papers here, which I don't understand because I think most tennis players are white. Apparently in the British Empire, a person is only "white" if they are of British descent. Murray seemed able return anything from any place on the court. It was very exciting to watch even if he was not really challenged. The fans were into the match, too; a group of boys wore shirts spelling out "Andy" and sung ballads specially composed for the match, such as "Andy Murray is the man – E – I – E – I – O".

Andy Murray!

Andy Murray fan club

Like most sports, watching tennis live was more exciting than what you see on television. The sounds are louder, the action faster, and you are so much closer to the players. The great players looked even greater, and the difference between the greats and the others was more obvious.

Our last meal in Melbourne -- yes, that is seafood in that pasta!

There was more to Melbourne than the tennis, even if we had very little time to explore the rest of the city.  For our last dinner, we explored just outside of downtown where Melbourne has its own “Little Italy.”  Drinking shiraz and eating seafood pasta, leaving Melbourne the next day was difficult to fathom.  We finished our last evening watching Bernard Tomic, Australia’s best hope for the Open, on the big screen in Federation Square, all while eating an enormous, dripping ice cream cone; the perfect end to a fabulous vacation.  

Roger Federer stares out at us from the big screen on Federation Square