Peter has been swimming in Manorbier for years, and he does the same swim daily at 7.30a.m and p.m, most of the year. He swims out to the point, across the bay, and back in, taking around 20 minutes. He did ask if we would like to join him, but there was no way we would have kept up. Although he denied it several times, Peter is a very strong swimmer, and frankly made us look pretty amateur! We just about had time to get in past the cresting waves before he had disappeared in the swell. We bobbed about, feeling less and less like the serious swimmers we had possibly made ourselves out to be...
It was a great swim though, seaweed got caught around our legs as we were lifted and dumped by the swell, and the sky was resolutely grey above us. We swam and chatted and swam, and then I began to wonder where Peter might be, as the cold started nearing my spine. We headed in, helped along by the waves, and shortly after became aware of the occasional splash reaching out of the sea as he approached.
After some posing in the surf for the camera (Peter not us) and a quick chat, it was back to the car, with a promise to meet up in the pub in a bit. For reasons best known to Becca's phone that didn't happen in the end, so sadly all we have of Peter is this swim. And the secret to best new hangover cure.
The rest of the morning was spent eating bacon sandwiches, catching up with emails, wishing we lived in Anglea's caravan, and discussing squatters rights if it should come to push and shove with the Elliot family. There are, after all, more of them than us, and apparently Angela's step mum has a liking for the caravan as well.
Maggie was our next port of call. She came recommended by Angela, and although she seemed a little apprehensive about meeting us (and who wouldn't be?), we found ourselves drinking tea around a large, friendly wooden table, surrounded by Maggie, her mum and dad, sister, niece and daughter. Not used to interviewing so many people at once we weren't sure where to start, but as the conversation got going we were able to take a bit of a back seat and allow it to cross generations, as we were offered journeys through the swimming and the sea. Maggies daughter is a life guard in the area, covering such daunting events as the Saundersfoot New Years dip, where 2000 people in fancy dress run headlong into the sea. Maggie's Dad learned to swim in the river, his first proper swimming costume a hand me down from his Dad, (an old style knitted one, with huge knots at the shoulder to keep it up). Before we knew it we'd taken up an hour and eaten most of the cake, and left with the feeling we'd only really scratched the surface with this family of swimmers.
There is someone missing so far from my writing, I think Becca may have talked about him elsewhere. He's a man called Eddy, who kind of started this whole thing off really. Becca will explain why, but not only did we really want to me meet him, everyone we had met so far told us we HAD to meet him. We had even been given directions to his house when we'd failed to contact him in any other form. So, feeling very nervous, very apprehensive (who just goes and knocks on people's door these days!?) and slightly sick we stood on his driveway, trying to push each other out in front. I won't say too much because Becca is going to write about him, suffice to say he's awesome...
Clare
