Runa Reta - WISPA Squash Pro on Tour on www.squashtalk.com

Road Trip with Manuela (Photo © R Reta)

Following the World Open in Belfast, I used the 10 days leading up to the Monte Carlo Classic as an opportunity to travel and sightsee in Italy, as well as visit with friend and Italian #1 Manuela Manetta.

After a few days of lazy training (after all, we’re at the end of our season) and eating way too much pizza, pasta and gelato, we flashed our most endearing smiles and managed to convince Papa Manetta to lend us his new Jaguar for the drive to Monaco. And so our road-trip began…

Sunday December 3 (Travel Day):
11am – leave Parma on a hazy, miserable looking day; not the “top-down, sun beating on your face, ocean wind blowing through your hair” scenario that I had quite envisioned. Scenery through the mountains and along the coast is still breathtaking.

2pm- arrive in Monaco. No directions to the Bed & Breakfast we’re staying at, but decide that the place is small enough to find it by driving around aimlessly.

We arrived in Monaco (Photo © R Reta)

2:30pm – checking in at the B&B, we’re met by our 3rd roommate (and partner in crime) from Denmark, Line Hansen, who has just arrived from playing league in France. Both receptionist and Line find it peculiar that Manuela and I should roll up in a Jag, wanting to check into a triple room at the cheapest hotel in town, and are now discussing where we could find free public street parking. Receptionist asks whether we want the breakfast, (an extra 9 euro a day). We pooh-pooh the idea, deciding that we can find a much cheaper breakfast elsewhere (thus prompting more raised eyebrows and rolled eyes from receptionist).

3:30pm – after dragging bags up 3 flights of stairs and stacking them up in every available nook and cranny of our tiny room, we head off to practice (and to find somewhere cheap or free to park the car for the week).

7pm – meet up with Guyana’s Nicolette Fernandes for dinner. Give her the requisite amount of teasing for deciding to stay at the fancy tournament hotel (which we joke, she could probably afford after her handsome paycheck at the Worlds). Four of us catch up and have a good laugh over reasonably-priced dinner.

9pm – walk Nicolette back to the Marriott, admire the swank hotel, and head back to our own Shangri-La. End of evening antics and entertainment (back in our hotel room) provided by the crazy Dane; split our sides laughing before nuzzling into bed.

Monday December 4 (Qualifying Rd 1):
8am – wake up VERY involuntarily to the sound of drilling and hammering, which seems to be coming from right next door. Much cursing and confusion follows.

View from Annelize's Room (Photo © R Reta)

9am – finally give up on the idea that construction will stop soon or that we will find some way of blocking out the noise. Peel ourselves out of bed and head to the Carrefour supermarket.

9:30am – apple, croissant, yogurt and OJ = breakfast (for approx. 3 euros). Stock up on supplies for lunch and for the room in general. Head to courts for practice.

1pm – decide to walk around town, while the others rest in the hotel room. Spot two Lamborghinis parked along the harbour; try to guess at which rock-stars own which yachts based on the names inscribed on them; look (unsuccessfully) to find any sign of imperfection (ie. garbage on the ground, blade of grass out of place, etc.) in this perfectly manicured, oozing-with-riches town; peak into shop windows of Gucci, Prada and Luis Vuitton, while salespeople inside wonder whether I’m lost/homeless.

5pm – 7:30pm – first round matches in the qualification. I help Manuela (in between games), Manuela helps Line; Nicolette and I have more manageable opponents.

8pm – head for dinner. Spirits are high- all 4 of us have advanced. Upside: we all won, downside: tomorrow Nicolette plays Manuela, Line plays Runa.

Tuesday December 5 (Qualifying Rd 2):
8am – drilling and construction resumes. We lose our heads a bit, and Manuela screams out the window at the top of her lungs: “STOP!!!” Eat supermarket food in the room. Pack things up.

10am – check out of B&B and bring all our bags to the club. Decide to practice and then try and find a place to put our things and hang out before evening matches- planned target: Annelize Naude’s room in the Mariott. Feeling like a nomad at this point.

Manuela comes back from the dead in 95 minutes. (Photo ©WISPA)

1pm – manage to get key to Annelize’s room (who hasn’t actually arrived yet) and settle there. Nicolette, who has checked out of her payed room in the hotel, graces us with her presence (and all her bags) in the same room. Four of us admire the view from the balcony, take silly pictures, fight to find space to lie on the two beds and attempt to talk trash about who will be losing and subsequently spending the night on the floor (which is made pointless by the girlish giggling that follows each supposed serious comment)

2pm – Nicolette and I go for lunch and a walk about town, while Manu and Line (who have completely hogged the beds and show no signs of going anywhere) lounge about the room and gorge on biscuits.

4pm – come back to the room, where only legal guest of the room – Annelize - has now arrived. We catch up, and joking resumes regarding which one of us she will be sharing with tonight. She leaves for practice, while Manuela and Line fill us in on how many biscuits they ended up consuming (a lot) and the nap they took. They continue to talk loudly while Nicolette and I quietly look at the pictures I had taken in Italy.

5pm – suddenly realize that matches start at 6 and should start preparing. Mood gets slightly more solemn (but only slightly) as we gather our things and individually head to the courts.

6pm – matches start. Screaming, cursing, diving, arguing with the refs, arguing with each other, pumping fists, making faces, throwing racquets and fighting tooth and nail to our deaths, ensues. 95 minutes and 5 games later, Manuela has come back from the dead (match ball down) to win against Nicolette; 83 minutes and 5 games later, I have barely edged out a win against Line. The winners are relieved to have made it into the main draw, but the emotions are clearly bitter-sweet. Everyone keeps their space out of respect for one another.

8:30pm – still at the club; give our comments to Andrew Shelley (who is writing the match reports), set practice schedule for following day, and wait for the last match to finish so that the draw can be done to see which qualifiers will play whom in the main draw. Rooming arrangements for the hotel are painstakingly made and sorted. We take our bags from Annelize’s and go our own ways to shower and change.

9:30pm – I get a call from the others, who have somehow congregated back in Annelize’s room as a meeting point. “Are you ready for dinner?” We head out into the night, tired and hungry, deciding to hit the first restaurant we come upon. As we walk, the thoughts of our grueling matches are fresh in our minds, but we make efforts to speak about things other than squash. Finally, Nicolette nudges Manuela and says: “you played well tonight…b---- !” We all laugh and continue walking. We’re young, fit, healthy, and in the South of France. Life is good. Life carries on…