Just another normal day

Or not. For a start I had fudge for breakfast. You can always tell when Rebecca Thomas is around, wine for dinner and fudge for breakfast. We had originally been aiming to leave London at 8.30am, which given that we finally rolled at 11.30 seemed unlikely looking back on it. We by no means had a wasted morning though, flasks of tea brewed while we made lists and checked them twice (well I did, having left home a few days prior Becca had no need of one) and deliberated over how many towels to take. General public, how many towels should one take for a week of swimming? I’ve gone with one large and two small, I’m worried it isn’t enough…

London grew smaller as the countryside grew bigger, and after a lengthy 5 hours of heart.fm we hit Wales. I won’t go into the long and the short of it, but somehow before our first interview we had to eat two dinners. Without letting on that was what we were doing. I won’t pretend it was fine, it wasn’t, and in future I’ll be finding out precisely who is eating what and when before I leave the house.

Sheila Leighton was first on our list. A good friend of my Dad’s, she has lived by the river Wye all of her life, and never once swum in it. She in fact has insisted on having two life jackets on a recent cruise - should the ship go down - leaving my Dad jacketless and to his own devices. The interview was short and sweet, there isn’t a huge amount to say to two girls looking for swimming secrets if you aren’t a swimmer, but she had a good stab at explaining the perceived dangers of outdoor swimming. Hopefully it will make a good bridge between segments, and she has a lovely voice.

The next meeting we were both a little unsure about. It was with a lady who’s reputation (on trip advisor) precedes her, and her reputation locally for that matter. I think it’s fair to say she is on the eccentric side of modern life, though I guess it depends what you think of as modern life. ANYWAY, Becca had spoken to her on the phone and she seemed pretty approachable, so we headed off to meet her.

 I don’t know if you have been to the Hay on Wye area, but it’s one of those places were there are a lot of “hippies”. Hippies with money. Hippies who wash their hair. Hippies who baptise themselves in a river at the height of summer, but would baulk at the idea of going in during a wet Wednesday afternoon. Barbara isn’t that kind of person. She is the kind of person who’s time and love is literally poured into the river. She had been known to remove children from their parents for the afternoon in order to have them experience the water the way she does. And to tape polystyrene to her shins to stave off bruises from an unknown set of rapids. She is wild and uncompromising and uttery bonkers. If you consider it a problem if your waitress is wearing no shoes and wanders through the room carrying a frying pan you should stay away from this pub. If you dream of rivers and swimming and joy and real ale this is probably your place. She will try and get you to swim naked at the full moon, you have been warned.

Clare

Wales and the West, Day 1. London to Hay on Wye

Today, to start our journey Clare and I travelled from London to Hay on Wye. In Clare’s garden at Cusop we met with Sheila, a friend of Clare’s Dad who grew up beside the Wye but never swam in it.  She learned to swim as an adult in the local pool. It was interesting to listen to the reasons why she had never swum in the river – and how the oral tradition that she had been brought up with, particularly from her Mum, was that the river was unsafe – it was dirty from agriculture and it was full of whirlypools, something  she told us that city people didn’t understand. In lengthening shadows we chatted to her alongside Clare’s Dad, Tony, who swam in the river very often as a child, and who had been brought up to believe that the river was safe and generally clean. Sheila remembers walking alongside the river and watching the salmon jump (something not now seen in the Wye with any frequency at least) but she never ventured in. It’s became more understandable that Sheila’s Mum had some reluctance in encouraging her children into water when she told us that her own mother had drowned. This was something we didn’t press her on.

Later we were really lucky to meet up with Barbara Lewthwaite, who runs the Holly Bush Inn near Hay and agreed to have a chat with us after we called her this afternoon. Barbara swims at least twice daily in the Wye - which runs at the foot of the grounds of her pub – and is the sole reason she decided to make her home there. As well as swimming near constantly herself, with plans to swim the length of the river soon for charity, Barbara is an amazing exponent for outdoor swimming as a whole. She told us about how just today she had taken several groups of people to the river and introduced them safely to outdoor swimming. She took a honeymooning couple to a private spot for skinny dipping and a family of wild swimming virgins to a safe space where they could enjoy the water safely. She told us about watching this family take their first river swim, about how they were thrilled by the freedom of the fresh water and of just getting in without care. Her absolute passion for swimming was clear, and when she took us to her beach of shingle and stone at the bottom of her garden, where the water flowed lazily and the evening’s first bats were appearing, it was difficult not to just throw ourselves in. We didn’t, but we have arranged to return for a full moon swim there with Barbara as soon as we can.

Becca
 

Start the week

We're just off on our mini tour, Monday - Friday working our way up from South to North Wales. We've packed a terrifying amount of car sweets, a flask, and 16 rechargeable batteries for the sound recorder. See under the 'tour' tab for where we'll be and when, and come and say hi if you are in the area!

Clare