One woman's wild swimming adventures in the west country

Foggy Hoe

We meet for a Thursday evening swim on Plymouth Hoe, after yet another hideous day of torrential rain, wind and mist. Unusually, the boys outnumber the girls.  We pick our way over rocks and seaweed into murky greeny-grey water. The wind slaps rain over me and I chill instantly so that the sea feels almost warm. Drake’s Island and a cruise ship loom in and out of view through the fog.

The minute I hit the water I feel better. The spray sparks off my burning skin and I smell stormy sea. Every so often patches of slender weed wrap my limbs like bony fingers in a ghost train.  I bump around randomly enjoying the sensation of being slapped by frantic waves. The wind roars in my ears enhancing the feeling of a fairground ride.

I swim and concentrate on holding my glide while I breathe, allowing the sea to dictate an erratic rhythm. I roll with the white horses and wait, sneaking breaths where I can see a gap in the slapper waves. We swim back in and are dumped inelegantly among the shingle, weed and sand on the shore.


Single Post Navigation

2 thoughts on “Foggy Hoe

  1. Because I really like your blog, I nominated you for the ‘One Lovely Blog Award’. You can see it here: http://shoreditchbakes.wordpress.com/2012/07/16/rain-stops-play-but-not-the-awards-2/


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: