52 WEEK CHALLENGE | WEEK 22: SWIM 56

Mothecombe

Mothecombe beach, ‘the secret beach’ — the beach that is actually busier than the estuary side, these days. ‘When we used to come here thirty years ago, you couldn’t get a pram down the path’, mum said. ‘It used to feel much wilder’.

‘But’, she acquiesced, ‘it’s good that it’s more accessible now…families can come. It’s just that it’s changed. I miss the pasty ladies’. We mourn endlessly about the loss of the pasty ladies (the ones that used to be in the Old School House café. The pasties weren’t actually particularly great, but there were old Devonian ladies and lended a dollop of brusque charm to the beach).

Mothecombe is beautiful, even amongst the low mist that hangs over the estuary. Determined to enjoy the day, families and groups of teenagers sit on blankets in swimming costumes, enjoying the view and the warmth of an imaginary sun.

It’s such an unspoiled landscape — no houses, no development, just seven miles of countryside holding the Erme in its palm. We go into the cold water gingerly, and I swim as best as I can without my goggles, which I have forgotten.

I am fundraising for the Samaritans. 20% of donations will also go two local projects: The Seal Project & Shoalstone Sea Pool. If you would like to know more, please click here.

52 WEEK CHALLENGE | WEEK 22: SWIM 55

Hollicombe

Close to midnight, the six ships lighting up the bay. We’ll miss them when they’re gone, perhaps.

The sand is coarse, the water is liquid dark, breaking in sharp, small waves on the shore. The tide high, I go in naked, and hope against hope that there are no jellyfish this side of the bay.

I am fundraising for the Samaritans. 20% of donations will also go two local projects: The Seal Project & Shoalstone Sea Pool. If you would like to know more, please click here.

52 WEEK CHALLENGE | WEEK 22: SWIM 54

The River Dart – Holne

I’m reluctant to put the place name of this location in writing because it was the nicest swim that I’ve had in ages. It’s not a secret place, by any means, but perhaps being told through word of mouth myself made it feel like one.

A short walk from a car park, and we were near a large, open pool — with hardly anyone nearby. I swam for longer than I should have trying to reach a small waterfall at the far end. Luna doggy-paddled with all her might in an effort to try and eat a duckling (Matt, in horror, chased after her and put a stop to the pursuit).

At the end, no one was around and so we stripped for the last five minutes, enjoying the giddy coolness of a cold bath in the Dart.

I am fundraising for the Samaritans. 20% of donations will also go two local projects: The Seal Project & Shoalstone Sea Pool. If you would like to know more, please click here.

52 WEEK CHALLENGE | WEEK 21: SWIM 53

Butcher’s Cove

On our way to Mothecombe, my oldest friend and I stopped to follow a path leading through some gorse bushes along the cliff. We came to a familiar (to her) set of stone steps that led semi-precariously down to a cove, which was ours for the day. Oyster catchers loudly announced our arrival. Both prone to excessive worrying, we casually discussed what we would do if one of us fell on the rocks and became unconscious. After that, the sea looked a little more ominous — perhaps the cove name didn’t help.

Thick with slippery rocks and seaweed, the cove was a little precarious to get into, but its pleasure was in its secrecy and with the sound of the birds. I attempted to clamber along to another area of the beach from the sea, but found the rocks too slippery, and so slumped back into the water.

I am fundraising for the Samaritans. 20% of donations will also go two local projects: The Seal Project & Shoalstone Sea Pool. If you would like to know more, please click here.

52 WEEK CHALLENGE | WEEK 21: SWIM 52

TORRE ABBEY STEPS

I went to this swim feeling frustrated, as I had just been to the doctors. I feel so grateful for the NHS but also so exhausted sometimes by the system. You fight and fight to be heard, to have your symptoms listened to. Sometimes it feels as if you’re banging your head against a brick wall for months, or years at a time.

I arrived at Torre Abbey with my mum and a group of swimmers had recently got out and were chatting nearby. I love Torre Abbey for its Victorian lingerings; you still can imagine crowds of revellers in their bathing costumes enjoying the sun and plunging soft ankles into the water, squealing and giggling.

In my disappointment, I swam hard against the cold, pushing towards Torquay and then turning back towards Roundham head. The water was clear, but not clear enough to see the bottom — all along I just saw the same shade of blue beneath me, as if I were in an enormous endless swimming pool.

I am fundraising for the Samaritans. 20% of donations will also go two local projects: The Seal Project & Shoalstone Sea Pool. If you would like to know more, please click here.