Monday, 30 April 2012
We drove to Thurlestone in howling gales and torrential rain, past broken trees and debris on the roads. Was this going to be one of the wildest swims ever? On arrival at the beach we were virtually blown off the cliff. And yet, because the winds were from the NE, the sea was actually quite flat, though the surface was constantly patterned by rogue gusts of wind. To our surprise, when we got in the water the visibility was brilliant; swimming off from the shore we travelled over the beautiful shingle shelf, and out towards the Rock, which stood firm, its chunky legs straddled across the water. Drops of rain fell like little diamonds. When we got to the arch the wind decided to play with us, pushing us back and forth, and unceremoniously spattering us with showers of surface water. Afterwards, doing a Houdini-style change in an increasingly steamed up car, and warming up with tots of brandy, we reflected that the sea was definitely the place to be on such a wild and wet day.