The cool, blue pool and the deep, blue sea. The peaceful and still alongside the unpredictable. In my town they live side by side.
Although I have swum outside, I am not yet brave enough to swim outside at home. I watch with wonder on New Year's Day as hordes of people run, jump and walk with trepidation into the icy sea for the Portobello loony dook. A new year's dip is now an important start to the new year. But not for me.
My new year swim takes place in the pool. On the 3rd. Indoors. It's not warm, but it is definitely not cold. And it is home to more than a rectangular pool.
Portobello swimming pool opened in 1901 and has Turkish baths, steam baths and a fine history. The aerotone bath is my favourite contraption. A Victorian hydrotherapy treatment, it reeks of Agatha Christie mysteries and taking the waters. I am transported to a different time in its steely embrace. It was once believed to help rheumatism, and for a time installed in collieries to ease the aches and pains of miners. The aerotone bath is vigorous, like a thunderstorm, and just as alarming. It makes spas and jacuzzis seem feeble. Imagine standing in a human sized top loader washing machine and you'll get the idea.
As I go to the pool, for my repetitive lengths, I look out to the waves and envy those wild and free swimmers who have left tickets and lockers behind. They swim in all weathers. They dump their belongings on the sand. Some have robes, some have flasks. Some just walk back up to their houses, dripping. Some have wet suits, some don't bother.
I have swum in the sea at Southwold in the summer. I am working up to joining them in Portobello. In January, it seems a step too far. But I'm thinking about it, and getting my equipment used to the idea.
Happy new year.
Commentaires