We swam around a rugged stretch of coastline and beneath an arch sculpted by centuries of waves. On this unusually calm day, the sea was so clear it was easy to spot red starfish clinging to the rocks and black sea urchins just below the surface, their spikes ready to pierce any careless limb.
We were three single women, ripe with middle age, setting out to prove the years hadn’t dulled our sense of adventure. Without the responsibilities of motherhood, we wanted to see if the world still felt wide open.
That was the plan when I persuaded my friends Samantha and Angela to join me on a holiday to celebrate our 50th year, organized by a travel company called Swimtrek. I imagined eight months of training would get me in the best shape of my life, maybe even the kind of person happy to be photographed in a bikini.
But I’m a procrastinator and squeamish about public pools. When a floating Band-Aid stuck to my goggles, I lost my nerve and quit until spring warmth coaxed me back into the local lake.
We were the youngest but the weakest
It meant that when I arrived in Sivota, a quiet seaside village in Greece, I only had a few weeks of training under my belt and felt nervous about the challenge of swimming 4 kilometers a day around a picturesque coastline of pine-clad coves and deserted rocky islets.
My confidence was further eroded when we met our fellow swimmers. All three men and eight women joining us were veteran swimmers. Although the majority were at least a decade older than us, they all looked to be in very good shape.
One woman wasn’t sure whether it was her fifth or sixth Swimtrek, while the oldest member of the group — a 76-year-old from Sydney — boasted that she had swum the English Channel, crossed the Strait of Gibraltar, and had just returned from braving a swim around the Komodo Island. Most told me that they swim almost daily, often in the sea, even in winter.
I was reassured by Thomas, one of two swim guides who kept a watchful eye on the group of 14 swimmers, bobbing alongside us in a boat as we made our way around the coast. “It’s about enjoying not enduring,” he insisted. “You are on holiday after all and if ever you feel tired, just climb aboard.”
I didn’t have to worry about keeping up or holding back the better swimmers. Part of the beauty of the program is that we were divided into three groups according to ability.
The three of us, celebrating our 50th birthdays, formed our own little pod as the slowest group. Even so, we gave ourselves a boost with the aid of flippers, and I managed to overcome the breathing issue with a snorkel as we hugged the coast around an uninhabited archipelago between the mainland and the island of Corfu.
Donning bright tangerine swim caps, we dubbed ourselves the Aperol Spritzers. For each morning and afternoon swim, we were given a head start and set off first, only to be caught up and overtaken by the faster groups as we arrived at our end point — usually a deserted beach or a sheltered cove.
There was no pressure, and I found my swimming improved quickly, not just by learning from the better swimmers but thanks to the tips on technique offered by others.
Acceptance and friendship
When we weren’t swimming, we swapped life stories. The conversations were far from the usual talk of teenagers or university fees that dominate dinners back home.
Meals were spent in beachside tavernas over shared plates of dolmades and carafes of local white wine. Without much effort, we three had become members of the swimming tribe.
By the end of the trip, it felt like we’d all been friends for years. I left inspired to keep swimming. So inspired that the first thing I did back home was book another swimming adventure, this time with my two pals and five new friends from the trip.
There was no reason to wait for the next milestone birthday.
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