The picture shows an old bloke (me) swimming in a swimming pool. You might think that is nothing remarkable but you would be wrong!
When I was about 8 years old at the start of the summer term our primary school class were loaded into a bus and taken a few miles to a swimming pool which I assume belonged to another school. All I know is that it was very cold. We all got changed (probably an epic task for our teachers) and were then told to jump in and doggy paddle to the other side of the pool. After a few attempts at this we all got out, dried ourselves got dressed and back in the bus to our own school. I can’t say I enjoyed the trip which was repeated every week for, I presume, the 12 weeks of term.
About the same time I developed a rash, the doctor was consulted, he said it wasn’t chicken pox or bubonic plague but he was unsure what it was, all I know is it itched. Miraculously it cleared up in the summer holidays but nine months later, when we started summer term swimming lessons it reappeared and the penny dropped – John is allergic to swimming pools. From then on I did not go swimming which suited me fine, nasty cold water, a boy might drown.
So for the next 60 years I avoided learning to swim. A few years ago I read Alan Johnson's biographies (the politician, three books all very interesting especially to a north Londoner), he could not swim either and decided in his 50’s to learn which somehow nagged me to do something about my own failure. Five weeks in the Caribbean, nice warm water, no nasty chemicals ought to be ideal so I set myself a goal of learning to swim.
For the first two weeks I splashed about on the surface with a blue sausage under my armpits but did not get far then in week three I managed to splash about on the surface without sinking unaided and now at the end of week four I can splash myself forward again without drowning. I am not yet confident enough to go out of my depth and I think it would be an exaggeration to say I am swimming but some progress has been made.
In the picture at the top I am not drowning in a swimming pool and whilst writing this three hours later nor am I covered in red blobs or itching! My guess is that the chemicals they used in 1962 were a little stronger than today, the big worry then was polio which many people caught from swimming pools (Ian Dury caught his in Southend swimming baths). I guess I might be able to take up swimming in the local pool when I return home – a real breakthrough, although the Caribbean is better especially with a nice restaurant and a bar alongside.