Word on the Water

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Word on the Water: a floating book barge

Every day on my way to and from work I walk past a boat filled with books. Word on the Water is a floating bookshop that is currently moored in Kings Cross. In the evenings music plays and the books are lined up in neat piles along the boat. I love the smell of the paper and the colourful faces of the books that smile up at me as you walk past. Sometimes one has a particularly large grin and it catches me. And I stop.

At the weekend I couldn’t resist buying The Sweetness of Life by Françoise Héritier. I want to buy a pile to send to friends and family if they are ever sad. It is a long list about the little things that give life its colour and magic. The small moments and observations that make life worth living.

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My current favourite book: The Sweetness of Life

Here are some of the things that I would add to Héritier’s list:

white Christmas tree lights strung in trees, when you see confetti outside a church or town hall and know there has been a wedding, baby’s hands and feet, shapes in coffee, eating things you did when you were younger (banana and custard, beans on toast), finding the perfect word to describe something, sweets in jars, perfectly smooth pebbles, love letters, wild flowers growing in unexpected places (cracks in pavements, the side of railway tracks), the smell of birthday candles, watching people you don’t know have moments you know they will always remember, throwing pennies in a pond or well and making a wish, finding sand in your bag after going to the beach, crumpets, floating book shops.

https://twitter.com/wordonthewater What puts the sweetness in your life? Add yours in the comments below

 

 

Stoke Newington West Reservoir

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My alarm went off at 6 on Saturday morning and I silenced it quickly, not wanting to disturb my sleeping flatmates. Half-asleep I pulled myself out of bed and reached for my swimming bag and wetsuit.

Stoke Newington West Reservoir is a short bus journey from where I live. The bus was quiet: outside the window I saw a few joggers, a dog walker and a smartly dressed woman walking bare foot down the high street, carrying her heels in her hand.

I was heading to the reservoir for an induction into open water swimming. I feel something of a cliché jumping onto the growing trend for swimming outside, but there is a reason why it is so popular. Being outdoors and in the water just feels right. It knocks me for a moment off the treadmill of life (work, cook dinner, sleep, repeat) and makes me feel completely awake (even at 6 on a Saturday). Particularly as someone who lives in London, finding moments to be among nature feels not just desirable, but essential for my soul. Slipping into cool water and swimming beneath the sky reminds me of the simple sweetness of being human.

IMG_9343I arrived into a cavernous reception area that looked out onto the water. It was a grey day but the perfectly still expanse of water still looked incredibly inviting.

The reception was already full of people. This made me extremely happy. I wasn’t the only one mad enough to wake up so early on a Saturday to come and swim in a cold reservoir: there were loads of us.

I might be biased (because I like to consider myself one of them and because I don’t do any other sport), but swimmers are the friendliest people. Unlike other public places in London where conversation with strangers is unusual, I always strike up conversations when swimming, sometimes in the water and sometimes while half-naked in the changing room.

There was a group of us who were there for the induction, and the instructor took us through the safety information and showed us around the facilities. Then it was time to wetsuit up and get into the water.

I love wearing my wetsuit. It feels hilarious. My arms hang stiffly by my side making me walk like a penguin. It takes ages to pull it on, and in the changing room I laughed with the group of women also doing the ‘wetsuit jump’ and twisting like contortionists to reach the zip at the back.

Standing on the side of the reservoir we looked not quite human, not quite fish. Together we walked down a pontoon and acclimatised to the water. We were instructed to ‘flush through’ our wetsuits, which I thought sounded very strange but just meant filling it up with water so the layer between you and the neoprene keeps you warm.

There were a few routes we could swim: the full 750m course, 200m or 400m. The 750m loop stretched away into the distance and I remembered what the instructor said about not pushing ourselves so went for the 400m as it was my first time.

After a few warm-up exercises (running on the spot in water makes me laugh) we were off. I love my local pool, but it felt wonderful to be outside and not constricted by the lanes and the pool’s short length. I swam, and then kept swimming. I felt strangely empowered as I swam – I was very aware of it being my arms and my legs making me move through the water. Go arms! Go legs!

Once I’d finished the loop I pulled myself out of the water, dripping and grinning.

IMG_9350The reservoir is a short walk from Clissold Park, one of my favourite parks in London, so after my swim I walked there and found a spot outside the café on the hill. I ordered a full English breakfast and ate it in the sun.

By now it was 9 but the park was still empty apart from runners and parents with small children. A group of girls played outside the cafe. One was dressed as ‘Batgirl’. Her cape billowed behind her as she ran up and down the hill. As I watched her I thought about how un-sporty I was for most of my life, and how up until a few years ago I could barely swim. When Batgirl stops wearing her cape I hope she still realises she can do anything that she wants to do.

http://www.better.org.uk/leisure/stoke-newington-west-reservoir-centre If you want to swim at Stoke Newington West Reservoir you must first book an induction.

A dip in Kings Cross swimming pond

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Kings Cross swimming pond

“Are you warm in that?” the man in the swimming trunks teased me. We were both leaning against the side of Kings Cross swimming pond, except his arms were bare and mine were cuddled in neoprene.

“I’m testing out the wetsuit,” I said. I’m going to the Lake District for an outdoor swimming adventure next weekend and wanted to check the hand-me-down wetsuit fitted. It did, after ten minutes of jumping up and down in the tiny changing cubicle and tugging wrinkles out of my knees.

It was my first time visiting the freshwater pond that is ten minutes from my flat, hidden behind the fountains and the fashion students at Granary Square. I walked there through a small park where a group practiced Tai Chi and chanted, not quite drowning out the sound of the construction sites all around. If you look in any direction at Kings Cross you can see a crane. The skyline is broken by half-built buildings and shiny glass tower blocks. And in the middle of them all is a swimming pond.

I swam alongside two other swimmers and a pair of ducks as the sun set behind us. The water felt warm (or maybe it was the wetsuit) and I swam front crawl up and down the small pond, catching glimpses of scaffolding and sky under my arm as I rolled my head for air. When it was nearly time to leave I floated in the middle of the pond, my feet and neon pink toes poking out of the water. I took deep breaths and floated. And I felt so happy.

There is nothing that says ‘London’ to me more than a swimming pond surrounded by building sites. London is a confusion of noise and buildings growing from the ground like weeds overtaking a garden. I hate it. But then I find a little pocket of something special – nature in an unexpected place, a bookshop so beautiful it makes me want to cry, a restaurant with the best banoffee pie, or a swimming pond in the middle of the city – and I am charmed. The surprises make my heart swell.

“No wetsuit next time,” said the man in the swimming trunks as I stood under the outdoor shower, my head turned up to the sun and a huge smile on my face.

“No wetsuit next time!” I replied.

http://www.kingscrosspond.club/ It’s advised to book your session online if you can. If you are turning up on the day the swimming pond only takes card, not cash.