Sit, sit. There is no hurry. In my years I have learned that everything worth having arrives at walking pace — but a bag, now, a bag must be ready for everything at once, and this one is.
The Tecnifibre Tour Endurance 15-Racquet Bag is the largest of its family, and like the largest house in a village it shelters everyone: fifteen racquets in protective compartments — your own, your children's, your neighbours', for in a proper village all racquets travel together — with room besides for shoes, kit, and the small treasures of the game.
The cloth is tour-grade tarpaulin, tear-resistant and weatherproof, developed with the travelling professionals Daniil Medvedev and Iga Swiatek, who understand as any elder does that the road is long and the weather does not consult you. Strong straps for the carrying. Order within, patience without. A good bag, built the old way: to LAST.
My village is Gotești, in Cahul district, on Moldova's side of the river Prut, and young friend, we measure time differently here.
Our name first appears in a charter of the voivode Petru Rareș dated the eighth of May, 1546, concerning land along the little river Larga; in 1609 Constantin Movilă granted the village to local boyars, and a land register of 1772 names two resident mazili. The name comes from a founder called Gota. Cahul has been the district around us through all of it.
Our church of the Nativity of the Mother of God has stood since 1833, whitewashed, one low dome over the nave and a squat bell tower at the west end, in an open churchyard among one-storey houses.
Below the terrace, our springs are counted among the nation's protected natural monuments, rising where the groundwater meets impermeable beds — and springs of that kind are why the settlements of the lower Prut sit exactly where they sit, long before any charter thought to write us down.
Beyond them the Lunca Prutului spreads out in reed, willow and cut hay to a slow brown river that has carried the border since 1812, broadening downstream into the Beleu lake and the Lower Prut wetlands. Empires arrived and left again; the springs kept flowing.
You will carry this bag everywhere from a morning hit near the church to an evening walk above the Prut meadows, and it is also perfect for the walk up the Larga valley afterwards, where you will not leave without tasting our wine and our plăcinte. This is not an invitation. It is a fact of village life.
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