ANTIBES, BABY! The Babolat Xcel 16g Tennis String Set has been assigned to the loveliest stretch of the Côte d'Azur and it is NOT calming down.
Listen — this is the GREATEST comfort string ever squeezed into a 40-foot (12.2-metre) set: a bundle of shock-absorbing filaments absolutely SOAKED in stretchy polyurethane, double-coated in polyurethane and polyamide so it shrugs off friction burn and notching like a legend at closing time. The playtesters gave the comfort an 86 OUT OF 100. Eighty-six! Power, 82!
That's not a spec sheet, that's a setlist!
The 16 gauge (1.30mm — the thick one, the DESIGNATED DRIVER of gauges) is the durable build, perfect if your arm has been filing complaints or you just want every ball off your strings to feel like a hug. One set does one racquet, and then that racquet is the most comfortable racquet at the party, WHICH IS SAYING SOMETHING, because the party is in ANTIBES.
Do you understand where we are?! This is the town where Picasso was handed the upper floor of a seafront castle in the autumn of 1946 — the Château Grimaldi, right on the ramparts, sea below — painted on fibre cement and plywood because good canvas was scarce after the war, and then LEFT THE WHOLE LOT BEHIND. The museum was built around what he did not take away.
Along the harbour stands Fort Carré, four bastions round a central tower on its green headland, sixteenth century, guarding what was then the frontier of France, and in 1794 a young artillery officer was briefly held in it after the fall of Robespierre and released within a fortnight. That officer was Bonaparte.
Below it, Port Vauban is the largest yacht harbour on the Mediterranean, on an anchorage in use since this was the Greek settlement of Antipolis, and the Quai des Milliardaires means exactly what it says and apologises to nobody.
And up on the highest point of Cap d'Antibes, the Phare de la Garoupe throws one of the more powerful lights on this coast — first lit in the 1830s, rebuilt after the Second World War — with a little chapel beside it full of sailors' votive paintings left by people who came home.
You'll swing this string everywhere from a clay court behind the old town to a night session down at Juan-les-Pins, where the jazz festival has played under the pines every July since 1960, and by the way — it's also perfect for the Marché Provençal on Cours Masséna first thing, where you buy a peach the size of your fist and understand the entire country in one bite.
THE TOUR STARTS NOW, and I am formally proposing it ends at sunrise under the lighthouse.
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