Click for full 3600px resolution. I’ve said before I’m not a great photographer, but the number one rule apparently is to carry the camera around with you, and you might see something like this, which reminded of the way Monet or Renoir painted light, but in real life. It’s not that photo is great but I love that for once I managed to get a reminder of something. It was hazy with the cliff under Brownstown Head visible, but the day turned to heavier fog during my swim.
I usually differentiate between my own photos and those from other sources by putting a black border around my own ones, (though I didn’t do this early on so there’ll be mixups from last year and early this year).
It was the only calm day I’ve seen in weeks, with that almost oily look we call glassy, a fog was dropping in, coming out from the beach and the water was a vivid turquoise green in the shadows, and there were jellies and a pronounced smell, all indicating a green tide, probably the last late summer (in the water) plankton bloom.
You’d think, with two year’s since I booked the Channel, a year since I started the heavy training, all the success visualizations, and all that time actually swimming, that at some point, I’d have though about what I going to write on the wall in The White Horse.
Maybe something from my collection of quotes. Maybe something witty or pithy.
But no. Standing there, just after Jen wrote her inscription, I was blank.
So I started writing, and “When it all goes wrong, keep going, see what you discover…” came out in a Rorchachian moment, thinking about what I discovered about myself, the call came, inevitably, from across the pub, “France, hopefully”.
(Or, in my case, almost Belgium).
I didn’t even take a picture of it, my sister took it a few days later!
South of Dover. From the sea all you see is the embankment. Probable starting point. You can see Dover harbour on the top right. Last time we started from one of the beaches between Samphire Hoe and Dover.