We were in a gated, exclusive, upscale resort. When we got to the rental house, as is our custom, we gave the penthouse suite to Paul in consideration for his arranging our 104 other tennis matches, twice a week, throughout the year. For organizing this trip we gave Bob B. the other single room. Everybody else had to double up with a roommate and put up with snoring and other adult men habits.
Friday turned chilly, windy and rainy. The Dunes staff initially turned down Bob B's request for court time that evening due to wet clay courts. But Bob L got on the horn and 'splained' to the resort staff how badly a bunch of good ol' Wilkes County boys want to play tennis. We traditionally play at home in literally all weather ' pouring rain, high wind, snow, ice, below freezing cold ' bring it on! So the staff kindly agreed to squeegee off a hard court for us. We got in a bunch of mini sets on one court using a round robin schedule invented and administered by Bob B.
One day, playing beside us on the courts, was a family, whose patriarch was the editor of Architectural Digest; and whose matriarch was the founder of Home and Garden magazine. Despite the rarified atmosphere, we were surrounded by wildlife. The lagoon beside our house had a sign warning of the dangers from feeding the alligators.
The tennis twice a day was superb. The food at various restaurants recommended by Rose Herring, through Jane Boettger to Bob Boettger, was delightful for several lunches and suppers.
John was our nightly tour guide to the cultural wonders of downtown Charleston. We managed to get our feet sandy and our bathing suits wet with a satisfying, long swim in the ocean. Even though it was only mid-spring, the water was quite warm.
By Sunday we were all sore, tired and beginning to feel out age. Another of many rounds of showers, beer and lunch at a nice Mexican restaurant on our way out of town rounded out a successful weekend.
