onionbagblog

Almost there. Only five days to go until the lovely lido opens up once again for a season of procrastination down in SE24.

The staging of the Art Deco Fair on Saturday signalled that the new lido season is almost upon us. There has been a slight delay in opening up the waters of Lake Brockwell this year, with the lure of a Bank Holiday Monday lido swim being put back until Friday.

“Technical difficulties” (waiting for a pool plant part to arrive from Germany) means that the Best Day of the Year in South London will have to wait until all that political posturing of May 6th is out of the way.

Purification in the waters of Lake Brockwell, the morning after the dirty deed has been done, seems like the perfect cure for the political hangover to me.

And so I walked through the creaking lido turnstiles on Saturday, settled up for a lido season ticket (£150 – £1.20 a swim every day through until October, and no increase on last year,) and then was welcomed back into the lido community with my happy, smiling summer friends all around.

Lido historian Peter Bradley was the first to greet me. We exchanged tales of the misery of our winter months, and the loathsome practise that is being pent up inside an indoor pool. Time to break free, time to embrace the tepid waters of Lake Brockwell.

The lovely Brockwell Lido Users Group had set up stall poolside. It is worth remembering that events such as the now annual Art Deco Fair wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for BLU and the campaign to breathe life back into the lido almost a decade ago.

Blimey – has it *really* been that long?

The Herne Hill Society were very friendly, even in the rare moment of mild frustration found within the most peaceful place in South London. An angry (ish) young blogger asked about the bodge job of the Herne Hill junction outside Brockwell Park. Almost an hour of debate followed, some appeasement and even a handshake at the end – lido life has that kind of calming effect on you. More on the Herne Hill conversation to come…

The pool itself was looking resplendent. Clear, blue water and a temperature of around 15 degrees to give you that perfect May 7th kick up the political backside. I have already rehearsed my choice of political phrase to unleash, as I dive in for the time and my head explodes with the harshness of the water. You need some kind of physical release, and my local politician of choice is lined up to receive the verbal assault.

The typography art installation by Gethin and Myles looks even more intriguing now that the water has entered the pool. The beautiful lettering, lovingly painted within the basin of the lido, is barely visible from above. Goggles on, heads down, and I think a few swimmers are in for a pleasant literary surprise, come that first chilly bathing on Friday morning.

The Fair itself wasn’t simply a commercial proposition. Other artistic installations were in place poolside. A plastic cup and a piece of string style communication system stretched across the width of the pool. Pick up a cup, and you were rewarded with some history of the lido’s past, with stories told from the many lido voices throughout the past seventy years.

A Mouse Trap style board game was also in place, which resulted in a figurine of a chap diving into the water. The lack of a German pump didn’t seem to bother the plastic fella.

A periscope was also by the side of the pool, replicating the view from the lido as seen from 20 meters above. It seemed perfect that the mirror focussed down on a bikini bra that was positioned in perfect range for closer inspection.

Daniel and Duncan at @TheLidoCafe had their busiest day of the year. The sun always seems to shine on Art Deco day, and I feel that the two brothers at Our Cafe by the Water are in for something of a very special summer.

So yep – almost, almost there. Fifteen years of lido life, and one final epic summer of arseing about by the pool to come for me. I’m going to make the most of it, come rain, shine or even *eek* work.

Golden days I tell you. Golden days.

This is rather lovely – an art installation at @BrockwellLido, stimulating early memories of water and the freedom that modern day lido life represents.

Gethan and Miles, the creative pair who staged so successfully the wonderful Herne Hill Expo last autumn, are mounting another major project for the forthcoming summer season.

A call went out a couple of months ago for lido lovers to submit a few short sentences, recalling the imagery that water conjures up for them, and how early memories of water compare to the lido experience.

The prose is currently being transformed into a very public piece of art. Gethan and Miles are taking great care to inscribe the words in intricate detail all around the inner bowl of the lovely lido.

With the pool currently empty, it’s a race against time for the artists to prepare the project ahead of the taps being turned on for the traditional season opener of the Art Deco fair on the May Day Bank Holiday weekend.

I caught up with Gethan and Miles on a wind swept Good Friday. It was somewhat surreal to be walking within the lido pool, the scene of my summer swimming activity for the past fifteen seasons.

The feeling of tranquilly and calm within the space was evident, even for a rather miserable early Easter period. It is this very theme that the project aims to address, exploring the imagery, and making swimming something more than simply a physical feat.

This is another great example of how the lido has been opened up for community based activities, since Fusion took on the twenty-five year lease from @lambeth_council. The management of the lido is in the hands of people who truly understand the benefits that the pool can deliver, and the respect that the surrounds command.

May 3rd can’t come soon enough.

As mentioned in the @audioboo below, I do believe that I have finally found a solution to the lack of swimming pools soon to be open in Lambeth. With the Rotten Borough about to close all three pools, the answer to my daily swimming dilemma can be found over in the West End.

A friendly, clean, outdoor (gosh) pool? Blimey. Why then has it taken me the best part of fifteen years to finally take a plunge in to the brilliant Oasis outdoor pool on Endell Street?

A bit of business to attend in town, and so I thought I would put to use my GLL Swim London card. Clap’ham has been something of a challenge of late. I love the old pool to bits, but the daily routine of putting in the lengths in a sterile, soulless indoor pool, was becoming something of a routine.

Time for a new challenge, time to explore the GLL website, documenting exactly where my Swim London membership allows me access to. Brockwell Lido was well off the radar, whereas the lovely London Fields Lido was part of the package, if slightly off the radar when it comes to a midwinter cycle.

And then – aye, aye, what’s this? Oasis Pool, right in the heart of London’s glittering West End? Gosh. I’ll have a bit of that then.

I’ve no idea why it has taken fifteen years of London living for me to finally swim in the Oasis outdoor pool. I’ve known of its existence, yet somehow swam elsewhere. That’s what living close to a truly stunning Olympic size art deco lido does to a young man.

And so I rolled up to WC2, swiped my GLL card at reception, and was then led on a voyage of uncertainty and discovery, and one, which one-hour later, would leave me grinning for the rest of the afternoon.

There’s something rather special about swimming in any new pool. There’s the uncertainty of an unfamiliar changing room routine; the anticipation of a new pool in which test yourself, and the pleasure of meeting new, like-minded swimming freaks.

Add into the equation the Oasis effect of a 29 degrees outdoor pool with steam rising as fast as the rain fell, and you can see why my mid-morning dip was genuinely one of the highlights of the festive season.

You feel special at Oasis, as soon as you have made the morally superior decision to swim outdoors. Straight out of the changing rooms and you are presented with a choice – a left turn for the identikit indoor pool, or eyes right for the outdoor walk into the uncertainty of the lido environment.

Which way d’ya reckon I walked?

Once water bound, I knew from previous experiences that I had to swim ASAP. The water was tepid, but the air outside wasn’t. The coldness hits you with each rotation of the neck to take on air. Best to keep on breathing, etc, but it made it bloody cold as I lifted my head out of the water after every four strokes.

The pool itself is clean, well-kept and fast flowing. I encountered little resistance as I put the lengths in. Instead of the Clap’ham jet stream that propels you away from the shallow end, the closest I came to being put off-stroke was the odd floating leaf.

I took pity on the poor lifeguard, sheltering from the sleet, yet still doing a fine job on duty. Lidos are wonderful, enchanting places during more pleasant climes; they can be pretty crappy places when you are reduced to taking cover in the slipstream of the rising steam.

Forty lengths later and I felt full of life. It wasn’t quite the epiphany of the Brockwell Icicle experience, but it was the change of routine that my Clap’ham days throughout the autumn months have been begging for.

I’ll probably be back very soon, either through enforcement as the Rotten Borough fails to implement any form of leisure policy, or simply through enjoyment and a love of outdoor swimming.

Legend has it that to be a bona fide @BrockwellLido Icicle, you have to swim in the waters of Lake Brockwell for 365 days of a calendar year, and on one of those days, forge a path for your fellow bathers by breaking the ice with your bare hands.

The urban myth became reality at midday on the winter solstice around the icy waters of SE24. Fresh water swimming enthusiasts gathering for the third annual midwinter swim were greeted by a glacier pool more suited to curling than front crawl.

The initiation of the old Brockwell Icicles Swimming Club was in serious doubt for a short while. What would it take to cancel the event, I asked the lovely Jeremy, Fusion’s man on the ground. “Ice so thick that we can’t break it,” came the reply.

A bit of Brockwell improvisation later, and the hidden talent of a stepladder as an icebreaker soon paved the way for the fools and the folly that followed.

Brockwell was bloody cold on those sad, final days of the summer season (yeah, right…) back at the end of October. The onset of the winter chill has seen the water temperature hover around freezing point. What were those crazy ladies thinking of, when they turned up to Brockwell Park with nothing but their bikinis?

I came prepared for the endurance. A wetsuit and a bright pink day glow swimming hat – if I got into trouble having hit an iceberg, I wanted to make sure that at least my head was still visible.

A pre-swim briefing and a consent form signed (alcohol in the past twenty-four hours? Not me, Sir…) and it was time to get stripped off. By this stage and my body and mind was already in another dimension. This is one of the highlights of the year for me. I couldn’t wait to re-enter the water of what has been my official summer home for the past fifteen years.

Much like those balmy (and slightly tepid) summer days, you’ve overcome the main mental obstacle by simply turning up. Once you are by the waters edge, then yep – yer gonna swim – or even splash and splutter around like a big girl wearing a skimpy bikini.

I launched myself into a frantic front crawl. My body had no reaction. My mind experienced a head rush that no comparison with illegal substances combined with carnal pleasure could possibly compare to. Now wouldn’t have been a good time to experiment with illegal substances and carnal pleasures.

It was when I made it to the centre of the pool that I first started to panic. My path was blocked by huge chunks of ice that had survived the earlier stepladder purge. I was isolated, with solid and not liquid around me.

Eeek.

With a pair of goggles to protect my eyelids from freezing over, I dived down deep below the beautiful blue waters of Lake Brockwell, and found a gap within the ice in which to emerge. Still no reaction from my torso, but I was grinning with a smile as wide as the gap in the ice itself.

I wanted more, but by now, my body was physically incapable of continued movement. My toes were starting to lock, and I could feel the sensation rapidly moving upwards. Time to get out, time for some TLC @TheLidoCafe.

Cripes – that felt absolutely fantastic. I could cycle away from SE24, take on board as many illegal substances, and indulge in all the carnal pleasures fit for a King, knowing that I had achieved something with my day; I had achieved something with my week and even with my year. Anything is possible now.

We swim outdoors because we can. It’s as simple as that. So can you. Why be held hostage inside a soulless, sweaty indoor environment? The heated (sort of) lido at London Fields is open all year, and is a good place to start. Tooting and the lovely South London Swimming Club should be your next progression.

This is not a loner, isolated individual activity either. Sure, you do the swim for yourself, but the sense of community around Brockwell continues to grow. These are the people I spend half my year with, and so meeting up during the winter months to catch up on all the gossip has got to be worth the ice experience in itself.

With a donation made to the nearby Wheels for Wellbeing charity (recently the victim of a shocking arson attack,) all that was then left for me was to pick up my Brockwell Icicles badge, designed by a number of local artists and commissioned specifically for the midwinter swim.

The Brockwell Icicles initiation is now firmly established on the calendar of lido events. Hitting gold / ice with a genuine frozen pool experience added to the ocassion. Four months and counting before the Best Day of the Year in South London…

Inspired by the brilliant Robson Green Wild Swimming Adventure on ITV1 (blimey) this week? Feel ready for the Brockwell Icicles initiation ceremony? Fancy some ice skating instead?

Yep – that time of year again.

Come on in, the water’s…

Lido Life Begins at… 80

Giggsy? Murray? Strauss? Nah. Highlight of Sports Personality, 2009, will be a lido loving pensioner lifting the Unsung Heroes award. Step doggy paddle forward 86 year-old Doreen Fitch, aka Mrs Tooting Lido. Doreen has been involved with the South London Swimming Club since the 1940′s, and has led two successful campaigns to keep the SW12 outdoor pool open. It’s the blueprint that has helped Brockwell Lido Users to become so influential. Oh how we could do with the passion and campaigning skills of Doreen, down in the Rotten Borough, right now.

Hyper Hyper Local Level

This is rather lovely. From the charming couple that brought you Stockwell Stories (I’m simply the shop front,) Bill and Jayne from around this manor have started blogging – and with real purpose as well. The couple are remarkable campaigners for local housing rights. Bill is currently the Chair of the Grantham Road Residents Association, holding Hyde Southbank Homes to account over recent lease hikes. A real purpose for the hyper local model.

And finally…

The South London / blogging / cycling / lido loving / @lambeth_council disliking xmas tweeup will be on… well, you decide. Dates between 20th – 23rd have been suggested. @Jason_Cobb for further dialogue.

It all started with a throwaway remark to @LloydDavis last Friday at The ICA cafe:

“Why don’t you take Tuttle South of the river to @BrockwellLido?”

It was said in jest, and with some amount of smug, self-interest. But as Tuttle continues to find a new permanent home, there is some justification for staging a weekly geeky meet up South of the river at everyone’s favourite cafe by the water.

I’m in no way suggesting that Tuttle should set up shop permanently by the waters of Lake Brockwell. The group is far too big for both the space, and the location. Any central Tuttle gathering needs to remain just that. Slipping out of the office for a cappuccino at the ICA on a Friday can be excused; trekking down to deepest South London and aresing about by the lido, probably wouldn’t go down too well with the boss.

But I do think that South London could support a weekly social media offline discussion. Transition Town Brixton has used the online tools to help roll out the Brixton £; the mighty Urban75 and its ever growing community is based South of the river, as are some of the best bloggers in the capital.

All of this is just thinking out aloud. Tuttle seems to just happen, but I appreciate that @LloydDavis has more or less it made it a full time going concern. Preparation behind the scenes is immense to facilitate the weekly conversation.

But if enough people are thinking along similar lines to me, then maybe we should make a move?

A few obvious questions need to be answered before Brockwell Lido Tuttle comes into being:

Would we be welcome? Um – best ask @theLidoCafe.

When should Lido Tuttle take place? Weekly? Monthly?

Would the @theLidoCafe WIFI support the demand? Haven’t pushed it to full capacity yet.

Would there be sufficient interest South of the river? Seek and you shall find. You can only criticise someone who has actually tried something.

Would the South London public transport network support the venue? Probably not. The Lido is a pain to get to via public transport. We’d be looking at walking or cycling, which would definitely limit the reach of the Tuttle crowd.

I think I’ll wait and see what direction, both geographically, and in terms of group dynamics, that the Tuttle crowd decides upon over the next week or so. I’m personally in favour of a North / South / East / West gathering, either in rotation, or as stand-alone sessions. A coming together of the clan, once a month, would also help this to work.

The South will rise – and drink coffee, and talk about online and offline networking, and enjoy the view form the lovely lido cafe – again…