Check It Out.

Swimming costume, x3 : Check.
River shoes : Check.
Tent : Check.
Bedding roll : Check.
Sleeping bag : Check.
Billy Cans : Check.
Camp stove : Check.
Campingaz : Check.
Fleece : Check.
Bizarre lightweight zip-at-the-knee trousers : Check.
"Delicious" dehydrated food, for emergencies : Check.
Walking shoes : Check.
Walking Socks : Check.
Canvas trainers : Check.
Backpack : Check.
Plane tickets : Check.

TO DO:

- Wetsuit.
- Day pack.
- Towels, clothes &c.
- Currency. Travellers cheques?
- SPONSORSHIP.

Parents leave the country 5 am Wednesday. Anything involving the use of a car must be organised by then. Slightly concerned that Gloria, rained in to Oxford, may have trouble making it down to Brighton on Thursday. Justgiving.com website refusing to register Common Ground. I shall have to collect money the old-fashioned way... should be having a "dig deep now folks" type launch party at The Roundhill on Friday night. Wrap party probably to be held in Cambridge next term. You come, you drink, you give us your shrapnel, we give it to charity. Everyone's a winner!

(Panic stations being manned - advice welcome at this point...)

Jordan.

xXx

not drowning but waving...

Hove beach again yesterday, this time with James. Overcast, windy, high waves breaking before they reached the shore, coming in slant-wise along the beach. If you swam parallel to the land, the huge waves would slap you forcefully over the head, and those breakers that reached the shallows had enough power to knock yuo over and suck you back a little way if you timed it wrong. It reminded me of being much too young for the ten-foot waves at Beeritz - frightened and enthralled.

Getting changed on a beach inhabited by other members of the general public is always funny. More so when the wind is high...

Jordan.

xXx

Down by the ocean, it was so dismal...

Miss Smith, it seems, was not on Hove beach this morning. Yes, the sky was grey. Yes, the wind was up. Yes, the rennovated modernist architecture above the Peace Statue was austere. The sea, however, was a joy. The waves were playful. The tide was high, and I think out-going; it was harder to swim in than out - unless you rode a wave... We ran into the water as soon as we changed. "Dip" was very much the appropriate verb; unaccustomed muscles buffeted and braced by that incredible and incomprehensible power. A power that is timeless. Ocean is older than land, and it doesn't age, and it's never the same twice. You have to be right in one single moment when you swim in the sea - it's like being given a carte blanche; you regain the right to Play.

Recovered with various elaborate (and allegedly vegan) cakes in the Sanctuary.

It's good to be home.

J.

xXx

I never did tell you about the time...

...we had all the trouble with the porters. It happenned some weeks ago now.

Benjamin, Iona and I met Gloria at Emmanuel porters' lodge at 8.45, a.m. As we three "aliens" waited, we were questioned by Angry Porter (the only angry porter I have encountered there, in all fairness): were we members of the college? Did we have permission to be there from a fellow? Were we aware that it was Quiet Period? No, No, Yes. When Gloria arrived, she turned on the charm. I have a lot of respect for Angry Porter, because Gloria's charm is very hard to resisit, but there was ABSOLUTELY NO WAY we were going to be allowed to use that swimming pool. No sirree!

So, Gloria whispered to us to go and hide.

Which we duly did - but, foolishly, in the fellows' garden, near the pool; we should have kept a greater distance... Sometimes, the porters just give G the key, and tell her to lock up and bring it back when she's done. I thought that would happen now. I hadn't reckoned on the true Grump of Angry Porter, who ESCORTED HER ALL THE WAY TO THE POOL.

Iona, Benz and I hid behind a bush.

We kept very still.

Angry Porter got closer...

We won, in the end.

It was cold.

Term is over. I am swimming in the Granta once more, very early tomorrow morning, then I shall be back on Brighton beach...

Bring on the sunburnt beach-whales that signal summer in the south east!

J.

xXx

Uisce: Water of life.

Uisce. The water of life. Anglicised "Whiskey". The same word in Scottish gaelic, Irish gaelic and also some English parts.

Training has begun, in dank indoor pools for the most part. I've been in the sea once or twice. Around here, the beach smells of beer cans and dunkin' donuts - ten for a pound on the pier...

Out at Tidemills beach, Seaford, there is a man selling coffee from a stall. Good coffee, but he only works on sunny days.

The lido isn't open yet...

xXx