Even though John McEnroe is retired, he spent a stint of the summer hitting tennis balls with guests at Épi Plage 1959, a small private club and hotel on Pampelonne Beach, near St. Tropez. “It’s like a Soho House, but much smaller, more exclusive,” says McEnroe, who stays for free in exchange for, mostly, his presence.
He wanders about the bungalows in a T-shirt silkscreened with the face of his friend Keith Richards, smoking a joint. It’s McEnroe’s fourth season at Épi Plage 1959—which formerly was named L’Épi Plage—but he claims to be unaware of its sex-drugs-and-rock-’n’-roll-laced history.
