Wensum: Fakenham writer Jim Harding discusses lack of school swimming pools and spotting wildlife by river
In this week’s column, Fakenham writer Jim Harding discusses the loss of swimming pools and a walk to spot wildlife by the river…
It was a cloudy, calm day here in Fakenham when I walked along the old railway line down to the three brick arches bridge.
It was the first time for a while as recently my fitness has not been great.
Despite the rain which had previously fallen - when will it stop this summer? - the track, covered with small stones, was very easy to enjoy.
What I mostly liked was being surrounded by so much greenery. Down by the river I looked out for the mallards which usually gather here in numbers along with the occasional swan.
On this Sunday morning, there were none to be seen. Perhaps they had all slept in a bit in tribute to the day.
I did spot a few butterflies but was unable to identify them apart from a striking red admiral settled on the path in front of me.
Although I carried binoculars around my neck, this was to be one of those times when they were hardly required.
I did wonder if I might see swallows and swifts but even these were elsewhere.
Normally at such a time, I might be in church and my wife certainly would be as churchwarden who is also a server assisting with communion.
Unfortunately, she suffered a bad injury in a gym class a few weeks back so has one arm in a sling and plenty of bruises from top to toe. It's to be no driving for some months.
The imposition has provided us both with challenges but we have been heartened by the goodwill of the church community and many others, whether to ferry Alison to the surgery, pop round to chat for a while or help tend various wounds.
Even getting dressed is difficult. Have you tried it with just one functioning arm?
We knew there were lots of friends out there but sometimes it takes a bit of a hit such as this to realise and appreciate their kindliness.
This particular Sunday coincided with the men's singles final at Wimbledon and that key final football encounter in the evening.
Both, of course, involving the Spanish. I have rather mixed loyalties here.
I got to love Spain when I hitched there, joined the grammar school exchange visits to Valencia, travelled the pilgrimage to Santiago by bike and also when I made my way through the countries of Central and South America.
Apart from the hospitality, learning the language was a great addition to my understanding of these places and their people.
This drew me on the side of Carlos Alcaraz in the tennis and I so admired this young man's skills and temperament.
There's only so much loyalty around, however, and nothing could persuade me to root for any team but England in the football. But, as you already know, it was not to be.
On reflection, which is difficult just after the final whistle, the best team probably won. Knowing Spain, as I do from many visits there, I reckon the celebrations will have been very high-spirited. Anyway, Viva Espana!
I liked watching the 'wild swimming' programmes on television when recognisable people jumped into cold water and seemed to both hate and enjoy the experience.
Wild swimming is often touted these days as a route to good health. I no longer prefer to take this route, though braving the sea on the Welsh coast is still a regular challenge. To be honest, I do wear a wet suit.
Anyway, the library book I've just finished is a charming take on the all-round benefits of swimming and the importance of a community having such a facility.
It's called The Lido and was written by Libby Page I'll not spoil it for those of you who might decide to give it a go.
We have lost both our school pools in Fakenham which has always disturbed me. All our three boys learnt to swim with weekly school pool visits. How many will never learn now?
Nowadays we manage a weekly visit to the Ficarra indoor pool on Greenway Lane but draw the line at 'going wild'.
Funnily enough, as a teenager I kept to a strict early morning routine which had me getting up by 7am each day, running up to Woking park and waiting outside its swimming pool.
As soon as life-guard Wilf joined me we would go inside and go through a warm-up routine of exercises and run around the adjacent field. The conclusion would always be a few widths of the open-air pool, whatever the weather. Was it cold? You bet.
Just occasionally there would be an ice covering which rather changed our plans. We would create a space in the ice, jump in and climb out again as fast as possible.
Once home I had breakfast - probably porridge - before biking to school or, later, my job at the local council offices. Those were the days.....