Each time we've met a new swimmer we've asked for a favourite or memorable swim. Dan from Gone Swimming gave us a description, which you can hear below, of his magical swim across the Menai Strait. 'Jealous' doesn't really cover it......
Monday 23 September 2013
The first winter
A few weeks ago we headed down to the depths of South London to meet the lovely Barbara. In this short extract she talks us through overcoming one of the biggest fears for those embarking on an outdoor swim - fear of the cold.
Thursday 19 September 2013
Back in Bala
We're back in Bala with Dr. Lazarus describing the rhythm and balance of his weekly swims. He also has some pretty amazing seal stories to tell, but you'll have to wait for the full edit!
Wednesday 11 September 2013
Tuesday 10 September 2013
Packing Shed
I was lucky enough to spend the weekend at the Mersea Island Packing Shed, which you can hire and spend the night on. You're own private island! Or, you and seven friends, if you are me. It was a great night for a swim, it's near Brightlingsea where I swam with Ellie a couple of weeks ago, so I was hoping there might be some bio-luminescence again, and I wasn't disappointed! It was nearly 1am when we swam, high tide, the water was as flat as a pond, and as we swam our arms and legs left glitter trails in the water. And the stars! So many amazing stars. Well, here are some pictures...
Wednesday 4 September 2013
Night swimming
My friend Eleanor Farrow in a lady of lists. Lists, and pilgrimages, and projects, and doing things not by half. Whether it's reading 52 books a year, or trying every Olympic event before Rio 2016, she's up for the challenge. So when she mentioned that skinny dipping was on her bucket list, Becca and I were all over the idea. And by that I mean we were all over the idea of forcing Ellie to get naked and swim with us, despite her slight reluctance.
So last week we headed out to Mersea Island, hoping from our internet research that we'd be able to swim just before high tide, then get the hell out of there before water covered the exit route and we'd be stuck. We landed on East Mersea in glorious late summer sunshine, and headed down to the shore surrounded by dog walkers and families with impossible amounts of children.
It didn't seem perfect, apart from the dogs and the children there was at least 50ft of mud to cross, and high tide wasn't until 11.30. Even then we weren't sure if it would be the best place to swim, not knowing how deep it would actually get. Not to be easily put off we did a tour of the area, determined we would get our swim...
Despite appearances this is about 2ft deep and full of duck weed. And probably duck wee too.
Photograph Eleanor Farrow
Well, we had a nice walk, but there was little chance of a swim anytime soon. From the banks of Mersea we looked across towards Brightlingsea, with it's pretty lines of beach huts, and faded ice cream stands, and made our decision. Back in the car, around the coast, to Brightlingsea!
Photograph Eleanor Farrow
It is gorgeous in Brightlingsea, I can see why it's a popular destination for bleary eyed Londoners. Again we had a bit of a snoop around, found our spot, and went off for some fish and chips. The tension was mounting a bit now, we had a situation where we were pretty sure we'd be okay after the sun had gone down, but we were essentially going to get naked in a town. As we wolfed down chips at our spot, we jumped at every voice heard in the distance, and every jogger who came past. By proper dusk, the people faded away, the chips were gone, and it was time to swim.
This is where the story takes a slight turn for the worse. Setting up the microphone on the sea shore, as I'd done for every other swim, in the dark I missed on of the locking devices on the leg of the tripod, and it collapsed effectively throwing the recorder in the sea. This, obviously, meant the rest of the swim, and all the following conversation, was lost. Which is a pity because at one point Becca said something along the lines of 'that swim was like magic', and it sounded like she actually meant it. So my swim was tinged with stress, and disappointment at what we were missing. However, the swim itself was like magic. By this time the stars were fully out in their thousands, and bio luminesce, which neither me nor Becca had swum in before, glittered around our hands and feet. And it was warm enough to stay in and enjoy the experience, and take in the sea and the air and the company, before dripping up the shore to our clothes. I have to say I don't think I've ever seen three people dress as quickly as we did when we heard the engines of some local youths driving towards us at speed! But we'd done it, and it was amazing. And I'll never forget it.
More on the recorder as it comes in, currently it's upside down in a bag of rice.....
So last week we headed out to Mersea Island, hoping from our internet research that we'd be able to swim just before high tide, then get the hell out of there before water covered the exit route and we'd be stuck. We landed on East Mersea in glorious late summer sunshine, and headed down to the shore surrounded by dog walkers and families with impossible amounts of children.
It didn't seem perfect, apart from the dogs and the children there was at least 50ft of mud to cross, and high tide wasn't until 11.30. Even then we weren't sure if it would be the best place to swim, not knowing how deep it would actually get. Not to be easily put off we did a tour of the area, determined we would get our swim...
Despite appearances this is about 2ft deep and full of duck weed. And probably duck wee too.
Photograph Eleanor Farrow
Well, we had a nice walk, but there was little chance of a swim anytime soon. From the banks of Mersea we looked across towards Brightlingsea, with it's pretty lines of beach huts, and faded ice cream stands, and made our decision. Back in the car, around the coast, to Brightlingsea!
Photograph Eleanor Farrow
It is gorgeous in Brightlingsea, I can see why it's a popular destination for bleary eyed Londoners. Again we had a bit of a snoop around, found our spot, and went off for some fish and chips. The tension was mounting a bit now, we had a situation where we were pretty sure we'd be okay after the sun had gone down, but we were essentially going to get naked in a town. As we wolfed down chips at our spot, we jumped at every voice heard in the distance, and every jogger who came past. By proper dusk, the people faded away, the chips were gone, and it was time to swim.
This is where the story takes a slight turn for the worse. Setting up the microphone on the sea shore, as I'd done for every other swim, in the dark I missed on of the locking devices on the leg of the tripod, and it collapsed effectively throwing the recorder in the sea. This, obviously, meant the rest of the swim, and all the following conversation, was lost. Which is a pity because at one point Becca said something along the lines of 'that swim was like magic', and it sounded like she actually meant it. So my swim was tinged with stress, and disappointment at what we were missing. However, the swim itself was like magic. By this time the stars were fully out in their thousands, and bio luminesce, which neither me nor Becca had swum in before, glittered around our hands and feet. And it was warm enough to stay in and enjoy the experience, and take in the sea and the air and the company, before dripping up the shore to our clothes. I have to say I don't think I've ever seen three people dress as quickly as we did when we heard the engines of some local youths driving towards us at speed! But we'd done it, and it was amazing. And I'll never forget it.
More on the recorder as it comes in, currently it's upside down in a bag of rice.....
Sunday 1 September 2013
Barbara
I've written a little bit about how generous the swimmers we've met have been both with their time and stories. We've been given cake, showers, beds, swims, but most of all memories. Barbara was no exception, inviting us to her house for tea and a chat, with no prior knowledge other than we swim.
Having brashly already knocked at the door twenty doors down from Barbara, we were slightly more reticent when trying the doorbell, but thankfully we were greeted with a smile of someone who is expecting us. Fresh from a swim in Tooting Bec, Barbara introduced us to her beautiful cats, put on the kettle, and we got to swim talk.
It's brilliant how different all our interviewees have been. Barbara is an amazing talker, quick and decisive, we barely have to ask a question! She talks wonderfully about the community at Tooting Bec; the races where everyone starts with a handicap, to ensure everyone has a chance at success; the cake baking trophy; the vague distain towards wetsuits and occasionally those that wear them too. By the end of the interview Becca and I looking in to renting in the area, she has made it sound so appealing. Her story is one of camaraderie, of being buoyed up through difficult times, and of supporting others. The community there is something I don't think I've experienced anywhere else, certainly not in London, and by the time we've finished quizzing her an hour has flown by, and it's time to go. I'm looking forward to meeting some more Tooting Bec swimmers in the near future!
Having brashly already knocked at the door twenty doors down from Barbara, we were slightly more reticent when trying the doorbell, but thankfully we were greeted with a smile of someone who is expecting us. Fresh from a swim in Tooting Bec, Barbara introduced us to her beautiful cats, put on the kettle, and we got to swim talk.
It's brilliant how different all our interviewees have been. Barbara is an amazing talker, quick and decisive, we barely have to ask a question! She talks wonderfully about the community at Tooting Bec; the races where everyone starts with a handicap, to ensure everyone has a chance at success; the cake baking trophy; the vague distain towards wetsuits and occasionally those that wear them too. By the end of the interview Becca and I looking in to renting in the area, she has made it sound so appealing. Her story is one of camaraderie, of being buoyed up through difficult times, and of supporting others. The community there is something I don't think I've experienced anywhere else, certainly not in London, and by the time we've finished quizzing her an hour has flown by, and it's time to go. I'm looking forward to meeting some more Tooting Bec swimmers in the near future!
Clare
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)