Cobblers Cove: Sport? A Walk In The Woods

We had been scheduled to play tennis the afternoon we arrived, but alas, an intervening opportunity arose. More on that later. So, after a leisurely beach walk by the wealth creator, we had had a nice beach side breakfast. We then need to play possum and try to get exercise mid-morning.

"Where is the tennis court?", I asked at the front desk. "Cross the road, and go through the little green gate. Pass the gym and it's just straight ahead," the receptionist told me. "Do you have balls?" she added. I always pause at that question. "Yes, thanks," I eventually replied, wondering if she had been a bit forward.

We meandered across the road, saying a quick good morning to an old man hanging half his body--the top half--out of his house window. We saw the gym. Or was it the gingerbread house? It was cute. We entered and it became Teutonic--weights, and bars, and stationary bikes, and mats and pulleys. A bit too much for a nice hut.

We walked out, and if I had had a basket we would ahve collected mushrooms. We looked at the court--a little worn, and we had been warned. But, it was playable. We hit and I made the Graf-wannabee do drills. Oh, we did not like that. Well, I mean. Tennis every day of the week and we still have to fly coach? Federer has a private jet. I had expected to be a travelling spouse on the Sony Ericsson tour by now. Don't tell me about Steering Committee meetings stopping that. Push ups. Star jumps. Make fewer errors. Serve, Drive. Volley. Oof! My game. Serve. Lob. Volley. Huhnh! My game. We did this till 5-2 and I thought it was time for a bit of breeding to show. "Shall we call it quits? That way you can say I did not win," I offered. Ever the competitor, the better half pondered. DNA kicked in. She challenged, "It would satisfying to break your serve," I rolled my eyes. "But, dearest, no way as satisfying as to break yours for the match," my Roddick-like voice muttered. We walked off court.

The sun had gotten high and it was time to cool off and have lunch. Straight into the cold plunge pool on our roof, and a nice swim. We had brought matching swim suits--each was sheer and figure-hugging, and looked just like skin...