It never ceases to amaze me how much stuff my friend, J, and I take with us for just, say, a one hour Hataitai Beach visit in winter. I take more with me to the beach than I took to Las Vegas for a fortnight.
We approach the beach with almost-bursting backpacks on our shoulders and the overlap bundled up in our arms. Hopeless. Next week, I may take a suitcase.
We are longer getting changed out of our bathing suits than we are swimming in the water. When we're dripping wet, freezing cold, with numb fingers and toes, and with umpteen warm clothes to put on, it takes forever. Sweaters get caught up in a damp roll on your back, bras can't be clipped because of fingers that can't be felt, and knee-high woollen socks refuse to go over icy cold feet. I won't even mention the trouble of putting on knickers and long pants. Well, yes, I will mention that actually because it is soooo difficult hopping around the puddled floor trying to put soaking wet calves into the proper pants leg.
What about the ceiling-high slatted open window that draughts down on us? Oh, and have I ever mentioned the floor of the Hataitai Beach changing shed is comprised of wooden boards with gaps between them? - the wind roars up your nether regions like an antarctic gust.
It is usually at this point that I swear never-never-never am I winter swimming ever-ever-ever again.
Below pic: today's bag prior to leaving home...
P.S: below picture was taken after today's swim. Seventh for the month.
What? Cold? Moi?
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