Tooting midsummer relays

After the Brockwell Icicles' competitive debut at the Tooting Bec lido spring gala in March, to our surprise we found ourselves invited to return for their midsummer relays - with me once again in the unenviable position of (dis)organising the Brockwell squad. We were allocated two teams of four swimmers, and after the usual descent into email/twitter mayhem, 11th hour substitutions and the familiar hunted look returning to my eyes, at last we were ready to rock & roll.

Our 'Dream Team' of fastest swimmers was made up of Rachel, David, Tim and Noelene, whilst our 'Custart Cream Team' of scenic splashers comprised Sara, Candy, Marcus and me. We also had the luxury of two timekeepers/general supporters in the form of wonderful Joanna and Carole.

Meeting in the Tooting lido carpark at the designated hour of 19h15 on Wednesday, it became clear that nerves and inertia were setting into the Icicle squad. The idea of sitting in the car and drinking the prosecco we'd brought was mooted longingly.

Nothing for it but to gobble down some crisps for morale and head into the fray.

The formidable Brockwell squad

Each race was 16 lengths divided between four swimmers, with each swimmer doing one length at a time. A bit confusing so Alfonso and team provided a demo on land:

Each team was provided with hats of matching colour so you could spot your teammates coming towards you, and all 34 teams swam at once (!) side by side without lane ropes.

At 100 yards it's a little daunting and hard to judge the distance. Sara went off first for the Custard Cream team, her little red hat beetling towards me and Marcus at the deep end. In sploshes Marcus and off he goes, overtaking a green hat along the way - good work! Then here comes Candy, I'd better get in. I'm so used to only swimming at Tooting in the winter it's almost a case of not-cold-shock. Here I go, swimming a bit wonky on my first length but pacing it OK. Length #2 I tried a bit too hard and slightly died around 70 m - suboptimal - so took my last two lengths a little more sedately. It's the Brockwell Way. Meanwhile the Dream Team a few rows down were putting in a sterling performance, seeming to get faster and faster as the race went on.

After my last length I popped up and asked "where is everyone?" - the pool was fairly empty by this time, ha ha. Candy nevertheless put in an impressive burst for the final furlong, narrowly beating one of the other remaining teams amid much cheering and a sense of victory. Hooray!

Quick showers then time to crack on with the prosecco...

Nice hat Candy

..oh and very tasty barbecue sandwiches from the all new cafe (where valiant attempts were made to eek out the last of the ketchup)

And look it's lovely Jonathan of The Swimmer fame:

Time for the awards ceremony... and what's this?! The Dream Team has only gone and come second in their age category - MEDALS!! You can hear the surprise in the compere's voice even as she announces the result.

Dreams can come true

A very proud moment for the Icicles.

And my homemade medals for all of us - everyone's a winner (of sorts).

Custard Cream Team

A most successful jaunt - thank you for having us, Tooting. Rio 2016 here we come...

Margate

With spring very much springing and Southeastern Railways offering £10 returns to various juicy UK destinations, what better way to spend a balmy March Saturday than with an Icicle school trip to Margate?

Icicle Liz with her fantastic researching and planning skills was in charge: nothing could go wrong. I'm not trying to build tension here: nothing went wrong.

We convened under some very pink, befronded parasols at BeBeached cafe on the harbour arm, enjoying coffee, chips and other vittles, rounded off with a complementary stick of rock each.

Who needs Miami when you've got Margate?

Next stop, the Turner Contemporary, the Tate of Margate and a very cool space. I forgot to take a picture of the outside but wikipedia remembered:

For all its stark modernity the building has a rather diffident way of blending into the sky and clouds, and felt very welcoming both inside and out.

We scampered round an exhibition that mixed (dare I say juxtaposed? no) Turner with an abstract American painter (Helen Frankenthaler, since you ask) and enjoyed the sea views through tall windows.

Anyway enough with the non-swimming chat - onto the main course of the trip...
WALPOLE BAY SEA LIDO!

All set to swim

We set off east for the mile or so along the coast path..

...and before long the sea lido hove into view, the walls just showing along the top of the water as the tide went out (at high tide the whole thing disappears like magic, re-emerging about (ebb-out?) 3 hours later to provide all the thrills of sea swimming without the hazards of being swept out and/or eaten by sharks - like a sandwich with the crusts removed).

It's a big old expanse of water - I'd guess something like 100 x 200 m. And funnily enough no-one else was there! We could barely contain our excitement.

Liz: the author of our content

Rules are for fools

We opted to get changed amongst a series of sea puddles halfway along one of the walls. And OH NO a gust of wind blew Marianne's nice new t-shirt into the water (not the lido side but into the actual Whole Big Sea) about 10ft below us, whence it slowly drifted away, presumably to the Low Countries.

Goodbye Marianne's t-shirt

No time for lamentations, time to swim in the sea ourselves - hoooray!

Of course super swimmer Noelene immediately shot across to the far side like a torpedo deployed, eluding camera, but here are Lesley, Marianne and Sara having a jolly splash:

And a couple of pics from Sara:

Liz the glamour queen

Katie the friendly otter

The water felt just WONDERFUL! Fizzy and restorative as a tonic, refreshing but not particularly cold (I'd guess 8 or 9 degrees), mild air and proper sunny sunshine. I wondered "am I dreaming?"

Back on the wall for a quick change under ever-descending towels, flashing passing boats enough to be designated a lighthouse.

We emerge triumphant:

On the way back Marianne and I busied ourselves collecting shells and sea glass along the beach.

Then who should arrive on the scene but Lido Mike and mini entourage, who had been cycling the Viking Way (I didn't even know Vikings had bikes) and were set to follow in our sandy footprints to the sea lido.

Lido Mike would rather bike than hike

As for our party, time for a post-swim pint in a cosy pub, The Lifeboat, serving up lots of local ales and exciting ciders.

All aboard The Lifeboat

Three cheers for beers

And finally, the crowning glory to the day - fish and chips on the sea front as the sun set.

Home time - full, tired and happy

The March Swimmer

Tis true what they say: time flies like an arrow, and fruit flies like a banana. For a whole month has passed since my last post and we find ourselves back in The Swimmer territories - my favourite destination for a Saturday. If the February Swimmer felt mild, this installment was positively balmy, with temps in double figures the whole morning.

Unfort Brockwell Icicle and photographer extraordinaire Peter was away on dutiful-husband duties so you'll have to make do with my craphazard photos. Alternatively you could check out this excellent little video made by one of Saturday's cast, Turner Moyse. It really captures the sense of the wheels coming off as the journey goes on.

After the usual 7am meet at Hampstead starbucks to sign away our lives, we hit the heath and soon splintered into girls and boys teams for the respective ponds.

Turnout was appropriately high on the ladies' side for International Women's Day - NINE in total. A new record and quite the contrast to my first ever Swimmer, when I enquired nervously "when do all the other women arrive..?"

A lady who worked at the pond was so excited by this superabundance of women that she gave us balloons to clutch for our team photo.

Go the mighty girls

 Then a brisk trot to catch up with the boys at Parliament Hill Lido...

And what a lido it is! So spacious at 60m, and an all-over sensory experience with steel lining + cold water combo.

Oh the dames they are a-changin'

Just time to glug down some water and catch our breath in the carpark....

 ...before setting off to Hyde Park for some Serpentine splashings.

Rev Graham: London's answer to The Fonze

No sooner had Swimmer newcomer Andy (pictured above) given proceedings two thumbs up than he executed a most elegant tumble coming out of Regents Park, drawing the first Swimmer blood:

Knocked knee

Arriving at the Serpentine I gleefully informed some of the first-timers that we do not, unfortunately, have access to the swim club facilities and would, indeed, be changing by the lake in full view of the world, his wife and their two dogs. Like the first two swims, the waters felt almost warm - or, at 7-8 degrees, at least lacking that chilly edge of recent months, affording a lovely pleasant swim (once you'd come to terms with the scary swans and general presence of duck poo).

Bin thinking of writing a love litter..?

Next stop: serpentine carpark for morale-boosting cake - particularly excellent offerings this month of sloe gin and blackberry cake from Brockwell Icicle Liz and lemon sponge from Swimmer co-organiser Jonathan. Plus Anna's almost-hot sweet tea and a cheeky smoke for me, leaving us ready to take on the final 10k leg to Brockwell lido. Before we set off, Rev Graham announced he would be departing at this point for his son's birthday, so of course we all sang Happy Birthday dear Oliver and clapped at the end, which was sort of weird given Oliver wasn't there, but also just very very Good.

Running ability was pretty evenly matched in the group this month, allowing for plenty of pack-running through Kensington, over Battersea Bridge and down into Battersea Park - Liz and I breathing our usual sigh of relief as we gained the south side of mother Thames. By tacit understanding the every-man-for-himself ethic kicked in as usual just before Clapham, and I completed the last 5k at a respectable canter with acrobatic Andy, our destination hoving into view just as my right knee was drawing breath to protest.

Hooray for Brockwell lido! Saving the best til last.

My natural habitat

Here comes Jonathan

Group dive and a few beautiful, soothing lengths, soapy shower to wash off all the sweat, mud and leaves, and then that transcendental moment: the piercing of the poached egg at the lido cafe. Ahhh...

Simon puts in a cameo appearance

Marcus struggles to come to terms with the bill

"This can't be right"

"Surely there must be a way out of this"

Good eggs all round.