I CAN’T imagine life without travelling. Perhaps because I have always done so much of it, ever since I first went away to a tournament in Germany when I was 14. These days, though, I don’t take my tennis racket. I take my golf clubs instead. The difference is that tennis was an obsession, that urge to get better and better, but golf is a passion, and I’m not looking to get any better. Drop me on the west coast of Ireland and I’ll be happy. Golf, Guinness and great people, perfect.
One of the things I always look for on holiday is music — I see who is playing where. I play guitar myself, you see. We just got back from Puerto Rico, staying in the El Conquistador, about an hour from San Juan. It’s a big resort, set on top of a cliff, with every kind of activity you could want. But I found out Santana was playing this new stadium in San Juan, and I had to go to that — 24,000 people, it was crazy.
Sometimes I build a trip around a band — I take the family to Las Vegas and, guess what, the Rolling Stones are playing and I have tickets. Or to Salt Lake City to see U2; or Boise to see what’s left of the Grateful Dead — not many, is the answer.
I sometimes do beach holi-days, although back when I was playing, it was hard to switch off and relax. I remember especially Pink Sands in Bermuda, though, because I went there when the Seoul Olympics were taking place. I had the choice — Pink Sands or compete in Korea. Was it a hard decision? Well, there was a woman involved, and I guess it often comes down to what she looks like — and she looked great, and I married her, and we’ve been together 18 years. So, I think Pink Sands is pretty special to me. As is my wife.
Then we went on honeymoon to Mauritius and the trouble started. We got married in South Africa — my wife is from Durban — at the time, this was definitely not a PC thing to do. But it’s where her family were. We were followed by paparazzi. And when we got to Mauritius, there had been a storm and the sea at St Géran was this thick gloop. It was semisolid seaweed, you couldn’t even swim. We lasted four days, then went back to South Africa to stay with my brother-in-law. Never been back to Mauritius since, never will.
We have four kids and one of them, Erik, who is eight, suffers from epidermolysis bullosa, or EB. What that means is his skin blisters from the slightest friction. In some cases, it can be life- threatening, but he gets by. When you’re born with something like that, you adapt. We do have to think carefully about holidays — heat doesn’t affect him, but humidity does. He loves to swim, so we go to the Caribbean, but he can’t walk on the beach, so I have to carry him to the sea. Once he is there, he is really, really happy. It is a case of checks and balances.
We go to Sweden and South Africa once each a year to see family, which is a lot of air miles. I like flying, or at least don’t mind it, until you get turbulence. For some reason, I don’t mind being thrown around in a little plane, but a 747 or Airbus, I just hate that. Especially over Greenland. I always get the feeling it’s a long way down, and, anyway, can jumbos even glide?
When we’re not seeing family, I tend not to fly for too long. In fact, I have a Winnebago that we use a lot here in Idaho: we go further up in the mountains, where there are these gorgeous alpine lakes. We ski, downhill and also skate-skiing, which is cross-country but without the tracks, so you don’t feel like one of those little slot-cars stuck in a groove. And the mountain air is good for Erik — it’s one of the reasons we moved here. That plus the people in Greenwich, Connecticut, have no sense of humour at all. It was driving me completely mad.
If I had to name a favourite hotel, it would have to be the Prince de Galles, in Paris. It’s on the Avenue George V, right near the hotel of the same name, which is more famous, I guess. The Prince dates from the 1920s — art deco — and to me it just is Paris. It’s where I stayed when I played in the French Open and it’s where I choose to stay when I go back now on holiday.
It’s slightly different these days, because at one time everyone knew my name and I knew every member of staff. I remember being at the chef’s birthday party at one in the morning the night before the Open and thinking, “This isn’t a good idea.” It was a good time, though, and I suppose that’s what really counts in life.
Mats Wilander talked to Rob Ryan
