Lido Love No.1 Brockwell
A couple of weeks ago I decided to set myself a smattering of (hopefully achievable) goals. One of the items on my new to-do list is to swim every Lido in London. It struck me that in all my years living in London I have never once visited one, and can count on one hand the amount of times I’ve been swimming since being here. I grew up in a seaside town, if we weren’t in the sea kicking at the bootstrap seaweed wrapping around our legs, we were sneaking in to the holiday camps to use their pools memorizing chalet numbers as we climbed through gaps in hedges in case we were challenged. Once upon a time I was a water baby.
Yesterday I started my Lido mission and visited Brockwell, known as ‘Brixton Beach’. Diving into a moderately chilly pool in this stifling London heat made me happy as a pig in shit. Swimming past a group of teenage girls singing a mocking song which consisted of a chorus made up entirely of repeating Nick Clegg’s name over and over also had Jo & I in laughter. The below feels like a fair way to judge the Lido’s I hope to visit over the next two months.
|Temperature:||Chilly but warmed up after one length|
|People doing serious swimming:||2 (until a triathlon team turned up)|
|Men grabbing their danglebobbins indecently:||3|
|Women swimming in sunglasses:||4|
|Kids doing classic “bombing”:||Lost count|
|People just dipping their toes with iPhone in hand:||3|
On London’s hottest day this year understandably there was a queue to get in and there are limited lockers if you’re not a member but you get to swim in a well-kept olympic size pool (I got carried away with this fact and as a result every bone feels like it’s creaking and screaming at me today) in a Grade II listed art-deco building.