As a culture writer, I occasionally feel entitled to tell people exactly how they should spend their free time, no questions asked. This is one of those times. On Sunday evening, I packed a tent, threw in a handful of essentials and headed to Wimbledon Park to claim my spot in the queue. Twenty-four hours, four separate queues, several matches and more strawberries and cream than I care to admit later, I can confirm it’s already one of my highlights of 2026. Here’s why joining the queue is the best way to experience Wimbledon… and how to survive it.

Setting up camp

As a child, my LTA membership entered me into a yearly ballot that got me into Wimbledon in style most summers. I had no idea how good I had it until I got older and realised those tickets were gold dust. So when my friend proposed joining the queue this year, I didn’t hesitate. I had little idea what I was letting myself in for, but before I knew it, I was walking through the Wimbledon Park gates with a tent, a sleeping bag and dreams of making it onto Centre Court.

I had little idea what I was letting myself in for, but before I knew it, I was walking through the Wimbledon Park gates with a tent, a sleeping bag and dreams of making it onto Centre Court.

Amelia, Culture & Lifestyle Writer/Creator

Now those dreams were quickly dashed when we were handed our queue number, only to discover nearly 2,000 people were ahead of us despite arriving almost 18 hours before play began. It didn’t dampen our spirits, though, and we set about making camp for the night. Once the tent was up, we took a moment to take it all in. The sheer sprawl of tents was something I hadn’t anticipated, but what surprised me even more was how many people were sleeping rough with nothing but a sleeping bag and the clothes on their back. Beyond the al fresco sleepers, I was struck by the remarkable organisation of the whole operation. Yes, Brits are famously fond of a queue, but from start to finish there was no chaos, no pushing, no shoving, which made the whole thing, against all odds, genuinely pleasant.

The people we met along the way

Perhaps the person who coined the phrase “maybe it’s the friends we made along the way” also experienced the Wimbledon queue. As clichéd as it sounds, the people genuinely made the experience. Spirits were high, strangers were chatty, and conversation came easily.

Over our 18-hour stint, we met people who had flown in from Australia, regulars who had made the queue a yearly pilgrimage, and one pair who even used it as a second date activity.

Perhaps the person who coined the phrase “maybe it’s the friends we made along the way” also experienced the Wimbledon queue.

How the queue actually works

If you’re already feeling convinced and mentally locating your two-man tent, here’s how it all works in practice.

When you arrive, find the staff carrying the large ‘Q’ flag. They’ll direct you to your spot and tell you where to pitch. A separate team will come round later to assign your queue number, ensuring everyone enters the grounds in the right order with no jumping ahead.

Once you have your number, you’re committed. You can’t leave your spot for more than 30 minutes (and it is monitored), and you stay put until the 5am wake-up call.

When the 5am wake-up call hits, it’s all systems go. Think a swift change of clothes, a quick tent pack-down, and then two more queues: one to drop your luggage, one to grab a coffee — and trust me, you’ll need it.

After that, it’s a waiting game, which is where your queue companions really earn their keep. By 10am it was our turn to collect our ground passes, which vary in price daily but came to around £30 each. The first 500 queuers get the chance to buy Centre Court or Court One tickets, but everyone else can enter, of course, a virtual queue for resale tickets later in the day. And yes, there is a queue to scan a barcode to join the virtual queue.

Once inside, we spent the day drifting between courts, sipping Pimm’s and soaking up the atmosphere on Henman Hill. By 5pm, our moment arrived – £10 Court One resale tickets, secured. It was the perfect, deeply satisfying payoff to the whole adventure.

Once inside, we spent the day drifting between courts, sipping Pimm’s and soaking up the atmosphere on Henman Hill. By 5pm, our moment arrived – £10 Court One resale tickets, secured. It was the perfect, deeply satisfying payoff to the whole adventure.

How to survive it

Survival, it turns out, is easier than you’d think. Yes, you’ll encounter enough queues to last a lifetime, but not once did it feel laborious or draining. That said, I picked up a few hard-won tips I’ll be taking with me next time. And there will be a next time.

  1. Bring camping chairs. Our biggest mistake. An extra thing to carry, yes, but after ten hours on the ground, you’ll consider it essential kit.
  2. Charge your social battery. This experience is made by the people around you, so arrive ready to talk to strangers.
  3. Bring actual charge. Your phone will die. A portable charger is non-negotiable.
  4. Pack some entertainment. A deck of cards or a ball goes a long way. Don’t overlook it.
  5. Leave the park for supplies. There are cafes and corner shops near Wimbledon Park within easy reach of your 30-minute window. Use them to avoid unnecessary queuing and stock up.
  6. Get in the left luggage queue early. It builds fast. The moment your tent is down, move.
  7. Don’t skimp on the suncream. I learned this the hard way and am still paying for it.
  8. Don’t underestimate the Centre Court crowd. If that’s your goal, arrive earlier than you think is necessary. People are serious about this.
  9. Get ready to move. If you are lucky enough to get resale tickets in the virtual queue, you will have a short 10-minute window to secure them, so make sure you are on it.
  10. Soak it all up. Getting into Wimbledon is no small feat, so once you’re in, make sure to wander, watch, and take it in.

So, is it actually better than the tennis?

Look, the tennis itself is hard to beat, but I’d make a strong case that the queue is the best way to experience Wimbledon in its entirety. There’s something about earning your spot, sleeping under the stars in a park full of strangers, and stumbling through the gates bleary-eyed at 10 am that no ballot ticket can replicate.

Yes, it’s a long day. No, it’s not for the faint-hearted. But it’s also genuinely, unexpectedly joyful and the kind of experience that reminds you why leaving the house and doing something slightly unhinged is almost always worth it. I turned to my friend before we’d even made it home and suggested same time next year. I think that says it all.
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Have you been tempted to join this year’s queue

London, Travel

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