The Real Wimbledon Starts at the Campsite Across the Street

When I arrived at Wimbledon’s All England Club on Friday, men’s semi-final day, security guards and ball boys were arriving for work before the ground opened to the public at 10 a.m.

It was at 8.20 a.m., and in Wimbledon Park opposite, thousands of would-be spectators stood in a line that appeared to stretch for at least a mile. Some had been there for hours, others for days. They hoped to secure one of several thousand £21 grounds passes, and once inside, the chance to buy Centre Court tickets through Wimbledon’s official resale scheme.

Kiosks selling churros, rows of camping chairs, and the occasional tent made it look less like a line for the world’s most prestigious Grand Slam tournament and British social calendar highlight, and more like the opening morning of a music festival.

My journey to what’s known as “The Queue” took me about 90 minutes on the London Underground from home, and cost just £3.40. It didn’t take long, however, to meet people for whom getting to Wimbledon was a far bigger financial commitment.

Perched beside their tent in The Queue, Yi-Wen Wang, 37, and Yu-Chun Hsieh, 36, told me they had traveled more than 6,000 miles from Taiwan. So far, they’d spent around £4,000 (about $5,350), their flights being the biggest expense. For Wang, a tennis superfan, it was a pilgrimage years in the making and worth it to attend her first Grand Slam.

Plus, they found one way to save money: accommodation. After missing out in the public ballot, which randomly allocates advance tickets each year, they decided to camp in Wimbledon Park to be among the first through the gates each morning. It paid off. After camping for two nights ahead of the men’s quarterfinals, they were able to watch Novak Djokovic play, Wang said.

By Friday morning, they were back in The Queue, waiting for the men’s final on Sunday. They hoped a few more nights under canvas would give them one last chance to buy Centre Court tickets and complete a once-in-a-lifetime trip.

In the tent next to them, Yao Lin, 26, was packing up. Her journey had also begun thousands of miles away, although it had cost considerably less. Lin, a dentist from Atlanta, told me she had decided to go to Wimbledon just days earlier, after spotting a redemption deal on her American Express points.

On Sunday morning, she booked a flight to London for the following day, bought a tent and camping equipment from Walmart, packed her bags, and flew to the UK. She landed on Monday afternoon and headed straight to Wimbledon Park, where she’d been camping ever since.

“I didn’t have to pay for the plane or hotels,” she said. “So it’s just tickets and food. I’d estimate about $1,000.”

She’d bought several £21 grounds passes, and spent a little under $100 on resale tickets to see her favorite player, Stan Wawrinka, and about $250 for a seat at the men’s quarterfinals.

Not everyone was prepared to camp.

Dwayne White, 39, a professor from Atlanta, had been travelling through Europe after attending a music festival in Portugal, and happened to be in London when he decided to try his luck at Wimbledon.

White said he was willing to pay “maybe $1,500” if the right Centre Court tickets became available. “But even if I don’t get Centre Court, just being around the grounds, Henman Hill, and everything that represents, I think is enough,” he said.

It struck me that there isn’t one way to experience Wimbledon. For some, the Championships mean a £21 grounds pass and a homemade picnic on the grass. For others, it’s flying halfway around the world, camping for days, or spending thousands of pounds for the chance to be a Centre Court spectator.

By around 9:30 a.m., there were short lines at the entrance for ticket holders, who would soon be walking to Centre Court and Court One.

Back in The Queue, the mile-long overflow had disappeared by 10:30 a.m. I was given my queue card at 10.36 a.m., and by 10.52 a.m. I was paying £21 for my grounds pass.

Wimbledon is a British institution

Inside, I remembered why Wimbledon remains such a British institution.

The atmosphere was both exciting and remarkably civilized, as spectators settled in for a day of strawberries and cream and Pimm’s cocktails, surrounded by immaculate lawns, and world-class tennis.

Dressed in linen trousers, summer dresses, straw hats while shading themselves with parasols, spectators walked along pristine pathways lined with flowers and perfectly kept shrubbery. Gentle, carefully timed applause sounded from one practice court in the centre of the grounds.

Nearby, at the entrance for debenture ticket holders, who pay six-figure sums for multi-year Centre Court seat licences, paparazzi had their cameras trained on VIPs heading for exclusive lounges. There, they would enjoy champagne and respite from the 90-degree heat.

Later, at the resale kiosk I recognized several faces from “The Queue” in another long line. I wondered, would White would end up spending $1,500 on Centre Court? Would Wang and Hsieh’s £4,000 Wimbledon adventure end with tickets to the men’s final?

Even with my £21 grounds pass, I was able to soak up the atmosphere. At one practice court, I stood mere metres away from seven-time champion Novak Djokovic warming up ahead of his semifinal. I saw Roger Federer, one of the greatest players of all time, waving from a balcony. I got a chance to watch some outstanding tennis on a big screen, while fellow grounds-passers excitedly cheered and popped bottles of luke-warm champagne.

Sure, it wasn’t the VIP Centre Court treatment, but for £21, I had zero complaints.

Whether you arrive after spending £3.40 on the Tube, $1,000 on a spontaneous trip from Atlanta, or $5,350 on a pilgrimage from Taiwan, everyone is chasing the same things: world-class tennis and the chance to take part in one of Britain’s great summer rituals