Apparently there are loads of wild swimming spots in Andalusia. So, armed with some hastily scribbled directions and a hire car, Rosita (a Spanish relative), my son and I set out on a quest to find a mountain top reservoir. 'It's gotta be round here somewhere' I comment as we take yet another bend in the road to be faced with the biggest and bluest expanse of water you ever did see.
Rosita politely asks an old hombre sitting under a pine tree if it's OK to swim in the water. 'Theoretically no, but the far end of the reservoir is less muddy'. We take this as a yes, if he'd have said no we'd have swum anyway.
 |
| Reviewing the situation |
The three intrepid explorers enter the warm, chalky blue water, this really is no like no water I've ever swum in before. The extra bold Rosita suggests that we swim to the other side of the reservoir, it must be about a kilometre, my son and I nod a cautious approval.
We glide and swim effortlessly to the other side. As the sole occupants of the reservoir we feel a bit conspicuous and quite vulnerable, we stick together, there's no need for heroics today. The swim back seems to take half as long. As I pull myself out of the water I feel elated yet disappointed that our adventure is over. This has been one of the best swims ever.
On our way back to the car a very fat Spanish lady tells us that it's very dangerous to swim here as you can get stuck in the mud trying to get out. I leave her to her bottle of Coke and tube of Pringles, I hope she can get herself out of her camping chair.
