First practice hit up

Jude andfound our way to a very average municipal court - I was hoping that they might be clay courts but unfortunately they were some kind of weird green bitumen. Still, a practice hit is a practice hit.

Rhys joined us for the last ten minutes so that he could play tennis too. I gave him a small racquet for his birthday which he tends to use like a cricket bat - eh - who cares.

The hotel bed in Geneva has done something nasty to my back but there is a Chinese massage place just a few blocks down from our apartment and I am booked in at 6.00 this evening to get the kinks ironed out.

This afternoon we plan to visit the Paris Plage - the fake beach they set up on the banks of the Seine.
It will be a relief to be away from the utter stench from the dog and human urine and excrement that this arrondisement appears to be drenched with. There's one particular covered walk-way that is so bad, that we literally have to hold our breath as we go past.

Another practice hit is scheduled for Thursday - and I plan to hit buckets of serves - gotta get that groove hapenning.