Jay Houhlias
“So how many have you done?”
“It’s my first,” I say, “yours too?”
“This is my fourth.”
“Wow, really?”
I turned to the other people in the group, but none were as stunned
as I at the answer.
“It’s my fifth,” one said
“It’s only my second,” another said.
“It’s my twelfth, I think, I lost count.”
“There is a big group of us and we do one every year. We booked a
year in advance. You have to get in quick!”
This was my introduction to the culture at Swim Trek. They are a global company operating swimming tours around the world, allowing people to explore locations by water.
I’ve always been a swimmer. When I was younger, it was squad, doing laps in a chlorine pool and loathing my mother when she’d wake me at 4:45am for training. Back then swimming was merely an important chore. I understood it was good for me but treated it like flossing or doing my homework. As I got older, I realised swimming could actually be fun. It could, under the right circumstances, make you feel good as opposed to burnt out and bleary eyed.
Nothing against the pool swimmers, but open ocean or river swimming is very different. Not only are open swimmers cooler and wilder, but the technique is far more loosey goosey as it constantly needs changing depending on the conditions, which direction your swimming, and of course, your mood.
This is what makes open swimming such a unique experience, even for those who have been swimming all their lives. They find something joyful in taking a practice, a fairly linear set of skills they know so well, and overturning it, giving themselves the freedom to abandon what they know and adapt to what’s happening around them.
On the Adriatic side of Italy lay the Tremiti Islands. They are known for their beauty and among other things, their bizarre history including opera singers and active mine bombs. Getting there was an adventure on its own; a flight, three trains and a ferry which operated on Tremiti time, which meant it came when it felt like it.
We met our guides Guilia and Margeaux, both swimmers and fit, exuberant individuals with the salt on their skin and the sun in
their eyes. The first morning we had our induction swim. It was where Guilia and Margeaux split us into groups based on ability.
It was very important to me and my young buck ego so I swam hard trying to keep up with Margeaux. I thrashed and she glided and when we stopped, I did well not to breathe heavy. I think it worked. I was placed in the pink group, which was the fastest, and best, obviously.
The groups matched everyone with the right kind of people. Some wanted to sightsee and dive, some wanted to push themselves with the exercise, others wanted a leisurely swim, and others were once decent swimmers and still wanted to cling to the dream of being able to do what they used to do in the water (at least one of them).
We spent the morning out swimming and on the boat, then we’d come back in for lunch and siesta, then we’d head back out in the afternoon for another swim. Siestas were obligatory. Southern Europe demands it of you. Even if you’re not sleepy, you find once you lie down, you sleep anyway. All the shops and cafes close during that time anyway, and so do you.
The combination of constant salt water and sun on your body gives you a layer of what I would call immunity. This immunity prevents you from ever smelling (not yet backed by science) and ensures by the end of the day, you’re always tired and can always sleep well.
Your body kind of calcifies as you just start blending in with the environment of ocean and sand. You stop sweating and constantly needing to clean and deodorise yourself. It’s nice, and contrary to what it sounds like, natural and clean.
Margeaux and Guilia were always liaising with the local fisherman for the best conditions. These fishermen know more than anyone about the island and the conditions that characterise it. This gave the trip a more local, sustainable feel. Not only did we have a program, but also real time feedback of what was happening.
I have rather annoying dietaries, and it was difficult for the Italian restaurant owners to fathom no dairy or gluten. They went above and beyond to get me gluten free pasta and bread. I tried explaining I didn’t have to eat the bread or pasta, and I could just have other things instead. I don’t think they understood though. You must have pasta, some form of pasta, you simply must.
We were set for some wild weather later in the week. But as the saying goes at Swim Trek (I think), ‘There’s always a trek.’ We hiked around the island where we got our fill of history. Guilia has spent her past six birthdays on Tremiti, so she knows the island as well as any. She knows all the restaurant owners and everybody that drives past stops and pokes their head out for a chat with her.
The intimacy of our trip made me wonder about all the other places Swim Trek operate tours in. Judging by the responses from some of our veteran team members, you can’t really go wrong with a Swim Trek trip, no matter the location or time of year.
You get used to the simplicity of it all. Wake up, eat, chat, swim, be in the sun, come back from lunch, nap, back out again, dinner, sleep and sleep well. It’s a good life and something everyone should experience for a time.
Before our tour had even finished, many of the group already begun making plans for the next tours they were going on.
“Jay,” I was told, “you’re coming to this one. Book it.”
And just like that, I had become part of the coveted group, the squad, the Swim Trek team who did swims every year and stayed in contact. That, more than anything, stayed with me long after we all said our goodbyes.
I started imagining the scenario for the introductions at my next Swim Trek. I’m thinking of swanning in and plonking myself down on my throne at the head of the table. Then, when asked the same question as last time, I’ll know exactly what to say.
“Yeah this is my second Swim Trek, and counting.”
In 2000, Swim Trek’s founder Simon Murie went to Turkey to do a Lord Byron inspired swim. He found it difficult to organise, and the swim itself took just under an hour. Fixing this imbalance between time organising and time swimming gave birth to SwimTrek. For more information, head to www.swimtrek.com.
