Wild Swimming Spain

With much excitement do I reactivate my humble blog to bring you a bookish post on 'Wild Swimming Spain' [fanfare]! Books and swimming - what's not to like?!

It's by John Weller (aka my dear and clever friend Poolside Percy, who I know through The Swimmer and has regularly featured on this blog) and his most excellent, half-Spanish co-author, Lola Culsan.

OK so owing largely to my poor time-keeping and organisational skills the book has already been reviewed by so many august organs (eg the Guardian and H2Open Magazine) that I've been scooped more times than a tub of tutti frutti.

Hot off the press

But here nevertheless is my take - including exclusive report of...

The book launch

This took place one Thursday evening in April, at the ever pleasing Stanfords book and map shop in Covent Garden.





















I arrived unfashionably early as is my wont, affording ample time to partake of a complimentary glass of Rioja and reserve a row of seats with my swim bag and towel as though at a luxury resort, before tracking down nervous John/Percy for a spot of encouragement and light pre-heckling.

Some of the usual Icicle suspects were in evidence, including Liz who deftly insinuated herself between the projector and an antique mahogany drinks cabinet to take up her seat.





















A touching array of Percy's family, including his mother, son Danny and an assortment of sisters, were also in attendance.

I'm quite a fan of the lecture format under most circs, and one about wild swimming delivered by well-loved friends is about as good as it gets. Percy began his part of the talk with tales of learning to swim at some baths in North London - "You could get a Wagon Wheel in the cafe afterwards but otherwise the 70s were a bit shit as I recall." Apparently it solved the problem of having only a tin bath in the kitchen at home.

Mini Percy at Parli Hill lido in the 70s

Poolside Percy and Lola took turns to recount the journey they embarked upon last summer to create the book - amazingly covering 3,500 km in their 20-year-old camper van over 6 weeks, and researching all the swimming spots themselves (through a clever combo of Google maps and speaking to locals), with Percy as photographer extraordinaire to boot.

Of the many anecdotes, for some reason the one that's stuck most is the tale of the sleeping bag that escaped from the van and went for its own wild swim one night.

Swim Lola Swim

The book is all about ditching the bland hot beaches for secluded and verdant inland swims in rivers, lakes and waterfalls. And a top tip from the  horse's mouth: if a swim spot seems crowded, head a couple of hundred metres upstream and you'll probably have the place to yourself.

I won't go into a detailed description of the book's many and varied swims, which of course all look mouth watering, but top of my wish list would be:

• pretty much the whole region of Galicia - known as 'el pais de los mil rios' or 'the country of a thousand rivers', which sounds like a hundred heavens to me. It includes the Rio Tambre, "a place to release your inner otter." I like to think my inner otter is just below the surface, leaving a trail of bubbles
• Lago Ubales in the Asturias region, a glacial mountain lake that is a natural infinity pool egad!
• the Pantano Del Porma reservoir, with its designated nudist swimming spots and "stunning views across the lake", presumably whichever way you're looking
• Embalse de Mediano in the Aragon Highlands, which still contains a church tower from when the village was flooded. At high water you can swim through the open belfry!

And Percy's favourite? A wide sweeping bend in the River Mino in Galicia, where "you can swim forever."

Interspersed with all the swimming infos are little snippets of Spanish customs and folklore, such as the traditional Cabrales blue cheese served with 'sidra' (cider) poured from head height in Asturias, as well as fragments of Spanish poetry on a watery theme, highbrow literary references (Laurie Lee - Sidra with Rosie?) and a touching photo of a goat on p.32.

The book also contains a brilliant Spanish swimming phrases/glossary section, so you can ask such useful questions as "Where is the river/waterfall/pool/lake/reservoir?" and "Where is the nicest section for swimming?" helping you to avoid "la molina/presa" (the mill/weir) and generally make the most of "natacion en la naturaleza"!

Congratulations John and Lola!

Wild Swimming Spain costs £15.99 and is published by Wild Things Publishing www.wildswimspain.co.uk/

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.

Sussex swims

Eek the summer has passed and barely a word have I blogged. But fear not! I have still been swimming.

First up, a lovely little jaunt to the south coast back in July with Icicles Sara, Noelene, Liz, Candy and Rachel, plus special guests Jess (Candy's daughter) and Rose from the Lido Cafe.

We arrived nice and early at Seaford and so had the beach to ourselves, and right lovely it was too in the sun.

The all important pre-swim Anzac biscuit

Why do I find the stones so much more painful to walk on than everyone else does? And why must Sara film my indignity?

Swim #2 was in the picturesque if rather weedy Meanders of the river at Cuckmere, which seemed like the perfect spot to show off some synchro moves:

And finally a short hop to the freshwater lido Pells Pool in Lewes for our final swim of the day:

Icicles on tour

What a luxurious range of swims and all in the sun: lucky old us.

Vancouver

Well lucky me on a little work jaunt to Vancouver - a city I soon discover is a veritable paradise for outdoor swimming opportunities.

For one thing there's a selection of lovely sandy beaches, and a Pacific swim seemed like a good place to start. I opted for Second Beach, checking first with the lifeguard that it wasn't compulsory to swim between the two lines of red buoys. She seemed rather pleased to have a swimmer under her watch and said she would come and rescue me if she saw me drowning outside of the buoy area, which I thought was dashed decent of her. There were plenty of people enjoying the sunshine but oddly no-one swimming - quite baffling considering the water was at least 18 degrees I'd say, but there you go.

First swim, Second Beach

Quick change under towel, Icicle hat on and in I wade. I love that first bit of getting into new water, finding out how it feels and having that little secret sense of achievement. But I'm a crap sea swimmer really when I'm on my own, easily spooked by a bit of unseen weed tickling my leg, and catching sight of some huge container ships further out in the bay made me feel very small... But the water felt fizzy and refreshing after my long flight and I managed to stave off panic for a few respectable laps up and down the beach.

Then still in full swimming regalia I made the short hop to my next swimming spot a mere 20m away... Viz Second Beach Pool:

My eyes gleamed and my tail went up 2 togs on the bushiness scale. 50 m of swimming heaven right by the sea but without the hassle of sea monsters. Yes please!

Next day, I made my way to the fun and friendly Kits Beach, where Vancouver families were out in force enjoying picnics, volley ball and other wholesome Sunday activities:

I headed straight to Kits Beach Pool, about which I had heard great things. And lordy I was not disappointed:

A 137m salt-water lido on the beach! My eyes popped out of my head and my tail fell off.

The further section was cordoned off for lane swimming, but rather than being divided into lanes there were simply two black lines painted on the bottom, with the area between them designated for overtaking, and everyone swimming together anticlockwise on the outside of the lines. A new system on me but worked beautifully and felt much more friendly and sociable to all swim together like shoals of fish. With so much space and general goodwill flowing about I soon settled into a lovely front crawl rhythm, steadily notching up 20 lengths (2.7km) with hardly an effort. Hooray!

I enthused to the lady next to me in the changing room and, swapping swim stories, discovered that she used to swim for Canada - how good is that?!

One evening I couldn't help but pay a visit to my hotel's own pool, on a roof terrace on the 6th floor... Inevitably, I couldn't bring myself to swim in it:

I think not

...so plonked my keister in the hot tub instead, which was rather enjoyable in the rain.

And finally, a trip to the aquatic centre, built when they hosted the winter olympics in 2010:

From the outside it slightly put me in mind of a care home for the elderly, and indeed when I arrived at 6.30am there was a little gaggle of grey-haired Japanese ladies waiting to be let in. But inside all was high ceilings and exciting echoes...

A juicy 2k swim for me, for most of the time just one other person in my lane, and even a bonus glimpse of the very impressive synchronised swimming team practising in the little pool on the far side.

Thank you Vancouver for some of the best swims outside of Brockwell I've ever had.

In case you happen to be going there, here's my Blue Peter-style attempt to provide an annotated map: