Knowing the daily rhythm and what to expect certainly helped this time as I didn't have Aida, my personal translator however this didn't seem to matter as my Spanish has somehow magically improved despite living in NZ permanently for twelve months. Go figure.
Jorge, Me, Nacho
I was absolutely delighted to see my friends Jorge and Nacho from last year. Again Jorge had come with his family to the island, two of his children were swimming in the Respiralia and they also had bought a much bigger team this time, the Barracudas from Barcelona, who later featured in much of the spontaneous entertainment. Apart from them there were a number of familiar faces who greeted us warmly and made the event seem somehow more intimate. This year the groups mixed well and you had the feeling of being in one big group rather than separate teams. The catalyst for the mixing being dancing, not swimming!
As it turned out we had a number of excellent dancers on the boat, the best being Jorge's son Eduardo. Being Spanish he wasn't just happy to dance semi clad in tiny green Speedos in front of a hundred or so people, he did it on the table top under midday sun with little or no encouragement. Naturally this turned the boat into party central as DJ Gus turned up the volume. Jorge assured me he was equally as good a dancer when he was younger. This offered respite from the need to stare vacantly out to see over crystal clear azul waters and the frequent thinking of friends back home who would have revelled in the experiences that make up Respiralia.
Eduardo & another swimmer turn up the heat
Naturally, it was mostly about the swimming although at times you'd have to wonder! Water conditions were better than last year, sort of like A+ instead of A-, it's difficult to improve on perfection. From the first day until the last I swam almost all the time that was available to be in the water. 2.5 hours the first morning, non-stop, literally. Then the same that afternoon. At a good pace without stopping that would mean at least 15kms on day one. That evening we went out for dinner and didn't eat until 11.30pm. Starving. Bed after midnight and up again 6.30am to repeat the exercise. Starting from the beach were we'd finished the day before. Headed out with my friends Jorge and Nacho at what I would consider 1km race pace. Another bloke joined us at the head of the field and off we went, flying through the water. Maintained the pace for 1 hour before Jorge and I fell back. Only managed 3 hours of swimming in total.
Final day the conditions were totally perfect. Flat calm and seriously warm. At times the water was almost too hot. Again we started from the final beach of day before, all swimming from the beach than as relays off back of the boat. I started with my a new friend Margo who had a training bikini with straps off her shoulders. Couldn't quite understand why until we started swimming and she slipped her top down completely. Topless swimming in the Med. Why didn't I think of that? The final stint was a 6km pristine stretch of beaches along an isthmus inaccessible by car and thus sparsely populated with tourists. Paradise indeed. In fact the Toilet Block head photo shows the end of this beach. I digress, along the way Jorge caught Marga and myself and the three of us continued stroke for stroke. Marga left us after 1 hour and what followed was pretty close to a religeous experience. Jorge and I swam in exact unison without pause for words in calm, crystal clear waters and sunshine. We laughed and had a hug at the end and commented to his/my friends about how perfectly we had passed the previous hours like synchronised swimmers.
It is a rare pleasure to encounter a like minded swimmer who swims at the same pace and rhythm and gets the same deep sense of peace and enjoyment as we Toilet Blockers.
Not to forget Martin who has now joined the ranks of sea swimmers although he pointed out it was on the Mediterranean so he's not yet an ocean swimmer, just a sea swimmer. He too swam for up to 1.5 hours at a time. Fins helped with rhythm and speed and allowed a regular pause of kicking on his back to rest the arms. By the end Martin too had found swimmers of his pace to accompany him along the 'travesia' as they call it. Sadly we dont' have photos of some of the most spectacular parts of the swim but we had our heads underwater! You'll just have to take my word for it.
In summation, another extraordinary swimming experience with a truly Spanish flavour. New friends made and old friendships cemented. Respiralia 2010? Quite possibly.
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And thanks to you all for the updates and emails, they've been great!
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