Summer Swims

With winter fast approaching (when swimming gets properly good) I really must bring my blog up to date. So here is a heavily abridged account of my summer swims, which had a distinctly Scottish theme.

Scottish Lochs 

First of all was a Swimtrek holiday in Loch Lomond and some of the surrounding smaller lochs. 3 days of swimming in some truly stunning scenery, in crisp clean lochs with peaty depths.

I was accompanied by fellow Brockwell Icicles Deb, Noelene and Candy, and the group was led by the very excellent Neil, who was our guide last year in the Lake District.

In we get

Al fresco changing

Aye Candy

Following on from such delights, us four Icicles stayed on for a few extra days, taking a very er cosy room at the jolly Inversnaid Bunkhouse:

A noticeable change in tempo now occurred, including ditching our wetsuits in favour of our birthday suits (!) for some delightful little dips in the small lochs nearby, such as Loch Ard and Loch Chon (if memory serves).

The Lesser-Spotted Noelene

On the bonnie bonnie banks of etc

 Between swims we even found time to tramp about and get thoroughly lost:

Good job Noelene was there to ferret out a path for us.

Good, we're doing well.

Jumping ship

Next up: a sail around the Inner Hebrides with family and friends all aboard the good ship Leader, a wonderful Brixham trawler dating back to 1892, cor, a jewel in the little fleet of Trinity Sailing:

Leader

Now swimming in open water is much more fun if you have someone to do it with, and I soon settled upon family friend, heart surgeon and all-round good egg Doc Martin as my chosen victim. With water temps in the region of 10 degrees he took some understandable persuading, but before long we had a pre-breakfast dip firmly entrenched in the daily routine (recorded in the ship's log as "Crazies go swimming").

At 7.25am each morning I would make my way to the boys' cabin and call in my most terrifying sing-song voice "Doc Maaartin, it's time to go swiiiiimiiiing", to which a little voice usually mewed "But I'm warm" from behind the bunkbed curtain. Perhaps schadenfreude should be renamed schadenfroide if you're taking pleasure in making someone else cold?

Anyway he soon got a taste for it, aha!

Here's a wonderful little clip, expertly filmed by my dear mother, of a swim off the island of Ulva, which is tucked behind Mull. The bay was totally flat and clear, seals could be seen napping on the shoreline and not a jelly fish in sight. Surely one of the best swims of my life.

On another occasion I was allowed to swim ashore (accompanied by the motorised dinghy) to Tobermory harbour from our anchorage in the bay, which felt like a Good Thing to do.

On gaining the land and making a shivery dash for the yachtclub showers, I heard a small child ask "Mummy, why is that lady wearing her swimming costume?" but didn't linger to catch the reply.

And finally

I was very proud to complete the iconic open water swim of the Outdoor Swimming Society - viz. the Dart 10k. A beautiful journey winding along the river Dart in Devon, from Totnes to Dittisham, with a nice bit of assistance by the current. It took 3 hours and 18 minutes and I swam the whole way with my loadstar and helpmeat, not to mention fellow Icicle, Marcus. (You might also spot Rev Graham, a regular on The Swimmer, tastefully photo-bombing us below).

Before

After

The medal is lovely and has the shape of the river cut into it. I took it to the lido the next day for Show and Tell.

Swimtrekking in the Lake District

After months of eager anticipation Friday 28th June finally arrived - heralding the start of a WHOLE WEEKEND of SWIMMING in the LAKE DISTRICT, organized by SwimTrek. Yes indeedy. Meeting with fellow Brockwell Icicles Sara (posts passim), Deb, Claire and Noelene, we piled abroad Richard Branson's train and before long found ourselves deposited in Penrith, Cumbria, whence the obligatory taxi (it's the Brockwell way) spirited us westwards to our destination - viz. Dalegarth guesthouse and campsite, a comfy spot in prime position for lake swims.

With time to spare before The Safety Briefing, Sara and I made a stab at unpacking in our lovely little twin room:

...before giving up and heading out to explore.

And what a place! But a mere (haha) 2 min walk down a leafy path (featuring my first ever glimpse of a red squirrel - so small! so dainty!) brought us to the shores of Lake Buttermere - about 2k by 0.5k on the surface and (according to wikipedia) 23m deep (gulp) and strictly free of motorized boats - so basically bucketloads of beautiful clean water, surrounded by green rolling hills. *swoon* At this precise moment conditions were on the blustery side, which only fanned the flames of our excitement:

Back at the guest house, the safety briefing consisted of quick introductions from all 13 swimmers, plus our guide Neil and his girlfriend Arian (also a swimtrek guide), in manner of an AA meeting: "My name is Katie, and I am addicted to swimming. It's got to the stage where sometimes I swim twice a day. You kid yourself you can stop any time..." etc. The group included three (lucky) men, and altogether we provided a refreshing though not problematic range of age and ability.

Safety talks and forms completed, we were all set for a short 'acclimatization' swim in the lake. With the water a comfortable 15 degrees and a manageable 600 m loop to contend with, team Brockwell Icicles opted for casual dresscode (cozzies).

As soon as I entered the water I knew we were in for something special. The feel of it is so hard to describe - soft? silky? And the colour! As though lit from below with a dark electric blue light. Magical. Seeing the stony bottom of the lake suddenly drop away to the blue depths was slightly terrifying but mostly thrilling - especially with reassuring company of the rest of the pack (shoal?) whom I hoped would look more tasty to any passing lake monsters. Admittedly the return leg of the swim was somewhat on the wavy/choppy side, but fortunately we triumphed without recourse to river taxi, and emerged with a distinct sense of achievement.

Dinner was in one of the two pubs in Buttermere village, a lovely 20-min walk along the shores of the lake, up a hill, left a bit, down a dale and through a farm. Bed early (strictly no giggling in the dorms), up for cooked breakfast and lashing of tea at 8am, then all aboard the minibus to take us for swims to commence in earnest at the far end of Crummock Water - a lake abutting Buttermere, about twice as long and another beauty. 

We were divided into three groups according to swim speed - Claire and Lucy in pink hats for scenic head-up breast-stroke sans wetsuit, the mighty Jenny, Liz and Rob in the fast orange hat brigade, and the rest of us in yellow in the medium group. Support for the day was provided by Liam and Pete in sturdy Canadian canoes to transport our things and offer a taxi service should the fancy take us, plus team leader Neil in kayak. Here we have excerpts from the morning swim, a 1.6km stretch along the length of the lake. (Thanks to Liam for remarkably steady filming from the boat in the second half):

Are you getting the picture? Is your mouth watering?

Back on land for a quick change and a cuppa...

Time for tea

Top-notch hat

Liam stokes the fires to keep the tea flowing

....before striding forth on a lovely walk along the remaining length of the lake, stopping for lunch on a hill with stunning views of where we'd covered (right), and where we would be heading (left):

"Who nicked my sandwich?"

"Hee hee yummy sandwiches"

 Arriving at the Buttermere end of Crummock water, we came to swim #2 of the day - this time across the width to two small and verdant islands on the far side:

Then back to more tea and stacks of cakes and biscuits, all served from atop the ingeniously repurposed red canoe:

Silly hat? Waterproof flares? She's got the London look

Walking back to the guesthouse via Buttermere village, entertainment was provided by a local sheep with an interesting dining stance resembling some sort of yoga pose:

Not to mention some startling parallels between visitors and local residents:

Back in our dorm after another pub dinner that night, Sara and I found ourselves succumbing to that creeping interest in mischief that a twin room and a sense of being 'under supervision' inevitably engenders. Maybe it was the pint and a half of local ale, maybe it was the cumberland sausages - but clad in pyjamas, we found ourselves heading down to lake in the last vestiges of twilight a little after 10pm, doing our best to wear our towels as scarves with all the nonchalance we could muster....

(Warning: sensitive viewers should be aware that the following video contains a distinct suggestion of nudity - all very tasteful though, promise)

I cannot recommend such activities highly enough and adjure everyone to have a go if presented with such an opportunity.

On to day #2 - a scenic walk to the far end of lake Buttermere, followed by a swim of the 2k length of the lake. And what is that hot orange bauble in the sky?! Could it be....

Sunshine at last!

Boys' changing room

Girls' changing room

Behold!

As usual we set off in reverse order of speed to reach our destination at about the same time, with Claire and Lucy blazing a trail for us in pink hats. Neil helpfully reminding us that this would be "our last swim" lent a tragicomic air to proceedings as we bid farewell, where the following film of our final adventure begins:

A quick change next to what turned our to be quite the thoroughfare for traffic, hikers and boyscouts (!), then just time for a last walk up a hill (Pike With Foot or something like that - never been good on names), including a swim tutorial on the hoof from Neil (it's all about pushing the water backwards in the middle third of the stroke, fyi) and some pleasing views of our morning's scene of triumph:

Ta-dah!

Never turn your back on Sara...

Stunning scenery + epic swims + marvellous company = happiness. QED.