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.

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

17 go wild (swimming) in Dorset

Oh my goodness! Last weekend saw an epic mass exodus of SEVENTEEN Brockwell Icicles down to Litton Cheney in Dorset to take over an entire youth hostel for two days of wild swimming, all masterminded by the non-evil genius that is Fran (the brains behind a recent trip to Pells Pool). Brockwell lido didn't know where the hell everyone had gone, and Dorset didn't know what was about to hit it.

It began the way of all good adventures - viz. getting up at 5.45am on a Saturday. Fortunately our Driver for the morning - the ever accommodating Noelene - came to collect me from my very door, and with Peter and Talya as fellow passengers, the 4-hour journey positively flew by. We even found time to browse the winter collection of the legendary Fleet service station:

Peter makes a rash purchase

We convened joyously with the others at a campsite by Durdle Door, stopping to admire the unique signage...

What more could you want?

 ... and dove-tailing beautifully with Sara, hot off the press from a recent jaunt to Madeira. Giddy with excitement we began the descent to sea swim #1.

If you're not familiar with what a durdled door looks like, this is what I'm talking about:

© Random Dog

Changing on the beach was a relatively civilised affair (relative to all subsequent such occasions) thanks to a handy outcropping of rock:

Metamorphic facilities

Togs, hat, goggs, and before you could say "Durdle Door" all 17 of us were bobbing along in a deliciously clear and blessedly warm (say 17 degrees) sea like so many freshly podded peas, making a beeline for the open Door. Buoyed by the salt and peer support, we took on the surge and crash of waves coming at us through the 'tunnel' to pass under the looming craggy arch - one of the most exhilarating and surreal paths I've ever swum. I hope this video gives at least a bit of a flavour:

For swim #2 we simply shoed the feet and scampered up and over a hill to a Seychelles-style bay on the other side, where the water had an amazing white glow (and unfortunate sulphurous whiff at close quarters) from the surrounding rock.

All for one...

And one for all!

More lovely swims (interspersed with occasional panic on my part amongst the terrifying weeds), followed by some less dignified changing-under-towel motions, piles of cake and lashings of Rachel's amazing licorice and mint tea (and then something stronger...)

Candy under full sail

The correct cake-cutting stance

Multitasking

Attention all sipping

"Have YOU got my whisky?"

Even Martin, who started in a wetsuit, soon learnt the error of his ways:

Before

After

Just time for an aerobics class led by top coach Alfonso, photographed by the above Martin (thanks Martin!), to get the blood flowing and the girls giggling:

A new low for all

A range of abilities

Brockwell Inmates on day release

For swim #3 in the afternoon we picked another beauty - Worbarrow Bay. But what's this stinging sensation spreading down my right arm...now my left? Jellyfish jeopardy! Only little 'uns though, just enough for a thrill.

(And for those jellyfish sceptics - Talya I'm looking at you - might I refer you to a recent article by that august organ, Wessex FM News, reporting "A number of jelly fish have been spotted off the Dorset coast following the recent heat wave," hem hem. Also worth noting that Wildlife Trust Officer Julie states "we do get quite excited when the jelly fish come around because you never know what could be following them." Well Julie, I hope we did not disappoint.)

 A few top pics of Worbarrow Bay from Martin again (I got distracted by swimming):

Instinctively forming an orderly queue..?!

Sea mist and jellyfish - what's not to like?

Alfonso's award-winning dive technique is sabotaged!

Entirely surrounded by swimmers!

Here Fran deploys her magnificent jacket-wot-is-also-a-towel-wot-is-also-a-changing-cubicle to great effect and the unbridled envy of all; Santa, if you're reading, this is what I would like for Christmas please:

Dignity at all times

I think now might be an appropriate juncture to get out of the water for a rest and have a little comic relief courtesy of the Youth Hostel Association. Ours was a cosy place to call home for the weekend (modelled beautifully below by Rosie), complete with massive open-plan living area, fully equipped kitchen and six dorms with the all important bunk beds...

A stylish pose

There's really nothing like trying to make up your bunk bed with drastically tight-fitting sheets in a dorm with three other girls to awake some ingrained, primeval capacity for sustained and uncontrolled giggling (David, watch video at your peril):

Down with skool

Just time for a few pre-dinner drinks courtesy of a seemingly coronated Sara, before a hop and a skip to the pub next door for dinner.

Have some madeira m'dear

A night cap or two au hostel, followed by enough giggling in the dorm to collapse both bunk beds, Sara zooming up and down the ladder with commendable alacrity, scattering pine cones and hairbrushes under the duvets of others... at last, lights out, sleeps.

Up at 7.30 Sunday morning for sea swim #4 - the wonderful West Bay. Here, Sara, Candy, Noelene, Marianne and Miranda kick off proceedings with a Chariots Of Fire-style dash to splash, followed by an unscheduled mouthful of salt water for Peretz:

West Baywatch babes

 Happy and refreshed we returned to the hostel for a hearty breakfast...

...featuring the much anticipated, lovingly constructed Peretz omelette:

Well done if you've made it this far! All that remains is our fifth and final splash for the weekend - this time a river swim for a bit of a sea change. Here things took on a notably chillier edge, causing quite a ripple amongst us so-called 'hardy' 'winter swimmers'. But the water was lovely and light and clean, and the surrounding grassy banks and nearby wooden footbridge made for a hushed and intimate setting (especially if you ignored the prowling swans asserting themselves in your peripheral vision).

 

Hang on where did Candy go?

Brockwell Icicles Forever!!

Just durdle do it