| The Women's Pond | ||
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Whilst
there are some who will happily break the ice before having a dip
on a frosty morning, I am not one of them. I love to swim in the
rain or when the water is warmer than the surrounding cold air,
but hypothermia is not part of my poolside repertoire. High hands
to those more hardy than I, however. Given the lousiness of Britain's
weather, the pleasures of the Hampstead Women's Pond are a pleasure
worth considering for only a few fleeting summer days when the heat
and the sunshine make it the least painful. The rarity of swimming
here makes you savour its pleasures ever the more.
Hampstead Women's Pond has a long and detailed past which I will leave for somebody else to tell because I am not a historian. I am a swimmer. Swimming here in the deep and murky water, under a blue sky, surrounded by greener, lilypads, dragonflies and more of the capital's lesbians than you would believe, is guaranteed to raise your spirits and make you feel glad to be alive. Nothing is better than floating in cool water and looking up at the sky. You have to be a good swimmer to swim here. The water is deep, there are no sides to cling to, just a handful of life-rings moored at strategic spots around the pond, and gorgeous lifesaving gals watching from kayaks, ready to leap in and save you should you flounder. Women swim in the pond sedately or chat and tread water, no one splashes, it's a slow-motion experience. The only sounds you hear are the squeals of ladies lowering themselves into the chilly water. I imagine that some people's idea of heaven is embodied here. There are fish in the pond, which is more like a small lake really, of which I am terrified. As a child I fell into a shallow stretch of the River Wye in Hereford. The weeds tangled around my legs as I thrashed and panicked. My brother had told me that Pike live in the weeds and that they are fierce enough to bite off one toes. On some base level I still believe that, and I swim nervously lest one should decide to make a meal out of me. The pond experience is not just about the swimming. It also encompasses the walk or the cycle down the dappled lane, through the woods. It's about coming across the pond unexpectedly and seeing the meadows filled with half-naked women opening up before you. You don't have to be a dyke to enjoy the ponds, but it helps. It's a place to get an eyeful and to see what the lesbians of London are all about. It's also a very nice spot for a picnic. Should you tire of this you could always meander down the way and visit the men's pond, or rather the gay men's pond, which has a springboard. Or you could go to the mixed pond, but I've heard that's a bit rubbish. I'm not a fan of women-only spaces, and that's putting it mildly, but I love the Women's Pond, or the Kenwood Ladies' Bathing Pond, it's full title. It's like stepping inside a 17th century painting of languid, floaty women, it's a piece of the past, it's almost genteel and, best of all, it's free. More pond pictures here |
  
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