CQBlog: 27/05/24 – I JUMPED IN!!!!

We’re home.  I’m sitting at the dining table in the tiny wee cottage we have for the third week of our kitchen rebuild.  I’m trying not to sulk that I’m no longer on the MS Esperanza.  And I totally shouldn’t sulk, because once upon a time, this place was our happiest of places.  It IS bliss, once we’ve got ourselves sorted.  And I WILL relax into it soon.  I just can’t help wishing we hadn’t had to break the spell. 

After a 13-hour journey home, we arrived back to our lovely house that is realistically out of bounds to us at 11pm last night.  We’re supposed to be staying away while the floor, walls and ceilings in the dining room, kitchen and pantry are replaced, and then decorated before a whole new kitchen is installed.  There’s still a week to go so I wasn’t expecting finished, but I was expecting to see a lot more progress than I found.  And if I’m honest, I think I’d erased the extent of the chaos we’d created in having to relocate absolutely everything from the dining room, kitchen and pantry to the hall and the living room.  We *could* have sat on the couch for our much-anticipated bottle of tempranillo, but sitting looking at the world of chaos might just have tipped me over the edge.  Instead, we managed to find two wine glasses and took the bottle and a huge bar of chocolate to bed.  With hindsight, we might have been more sensible booking into a hotel half way home, but the comfort of my own bed was calling me.  Loudly.  But hey.  It is what it is.  It WILL be worth it in the end.  It will.  Honest. 

So until this coming weekend, we are settled in to our lovely wee haven.  It’s like a house you might’ve drawn when you were a kid. It has no telephone, no television, no wi-fi.  There is electricity and a coal fire, so that’s all good.  The water comes from the stream, so although bath time looks like I’m getting into a bubbled-up sheep dip, the peatiness in the water is wonderful for your skin.  Any minute now, I’m going to light the fire.  And pour myself a glass of wine while I pretend I’m still on my hols and everything in the kitchen is totally under control, which they assure me it is.  

But what about our holiday?  Oh, my goodness it was fabulous.  In fact, I might go so far as to say that it could be my best holiday ever.  I don’t think I’ve ever given genuine consideration to ‘can I just stay another week?’ before, and, finances aside, I totally could have.  

We’d booked an 8-day cruise around the Croatian islands with Sail Croatia, and I am totally happy to give them a plug.  The schedule promised fabulous food – tick.  A different fabulous location each evening for dinner – tick.  And a different swim stop every day – tick.  Let’s expand on some of those things.  

Strangely, for somebody who generally professes to not really like people very much, the 30 other guests and crew were a great group.  Conversations over breakfast and our daily delicious 3-course lunch on board flowed freely, with opportunities to dine in different groups (or alone) of an evening in a different town each night.  Of course, you naturally gravitate to people who feel like your tribe, but there was nobody that made you think ‘oh no…’ if they were heading in your direction, which I think was one of my biggest concerns before I booked.  We were soon befriending people on Facebook, and sharing contact details, and our cruise WhatsApp group quickly became more than just a way for our fabulous cruise host Ioana to pass on details of whatever was coming next. I think we extended an invitation to come visit to everybody, and won’t be hiding behind the curtains if people really do.  I also genuinely think there are some that might see me set foot outside of these shores at some time in the future to come visit, and I have never either extended an invitation or accepted one from somebody I just met on holiday.  They/we really were a great group of people.  

Amongst our number were two solo travellers, one guy and one gal, which made me think again about a solo trip I might make later in the year.  They were both made very welcome by absolutely everybody, and indeed have offers to come visit us here in Scotland, but I wonder if I might have enjoyed this particular holiday quite so much had I been solo.  

Because one of my other concerns, in fact, actually, my biggest worry was about the swim stops.  Yet the swim stops were exactly why I booked a small cruise and the Esperanza in particular, and I’m not sure if I could ever have been quite so brave if I didn’t have my Knight in Shining Armour Mr CQ with me.

We booked last September, my lovely gift from Mr CQ for my big birthday (and by the way, there were loads of us on the cruise there to celebrate a big birthday, not all the same number…).  And since September last year, I have been totally focussed on the things I would like to achieve in the swim stops.  I wanted to feel comfortable in the water out of my depth.  To be able to chat while treading water.  And even to be able to put goggles on or off while treading water without sinking to a deep and murky depth and drowning in the process.  But the biggest thing I wanted to do was to jump in from the swim platform at the back of the boat without drowning.  

And…

Oh.  My.  God.  

I don’t think I’ve ever set myself a bigger challenge.  

Given that I have only learned to swim in the deep end since we moved here not quite two years ago, it really was mammoth, but, I am a girl who loves a challenge.  I think you might know that by now.  So at swimming class I’ve been jumping into the deep end for some time now.  I do still have to momentarily psych myself up for it each time, but I know I can do it.  I’ve even jumped in from the first of the dive platforms to understand that the higher I am above the surface, the harder I’ll fall, and the deeper I’ll go.  I’ve been putting goggles on and off after a fashion for a couple of weeks so ticked that off my list.  I even learnt to use my snorkel so I could see all the wonders of the undersea world. 

Now fast forward to our first swim stop last Monday.  We stopped in a cove.  Anchors down.  Glorious.  But not a beach in sight.  Just water.  Deep water.  And it was at this point that for whatever reason I realised I had assumed that the swim stop would be in a cove, a short distance away from a sandy beach, where I could relax after my swim out, before returning to the boat.  No.  this was not the case, and on Monday I completely bottled it.  I didn’t even get wet.  I was ridiculously disappointed and gave myself several hard talking to’s.  

On Tuesday, I had promised myself that I would go in, whatever the depth.  I gave myself a little let-out and said I didn’t even need to let go of my hold on the ladder, but I would step off the ladder and go in.  Which I did.  And I actually did manage to let go of the ladder for some treading water and a conversation with several swim buddies.  I managed to use my waterproof camera to take pictures of others, and get this now, I even managed to take the camera strap off over my head and take a picture of Mr CQ and I treading water.  Sounds easy doesn’t it?  Nope.  I was ridiculously pleased with myself and more than a little relieved, and rewarded myself with a large glass of wine.  Who cares that it was only 11:30?  Certainly not me; I was on my hols!

On Wednesday, I climbed down the ladder and stepped off as if it were (almost) the most natural thing in the world before hanging around and chatting with my swim buds.  

On Thursday, after proving that I could do all of that again, I climbed back up the ladder and allowed myself to fall backwards into the water.  I think I ingested most of the Adriatic through my nose, but I did it.  There was of course another large white wine reward. 

On Friday, thinking that there was no swim stop on Saturday, so this was my last chance or fail miserably, I needed to just get on with it and do that step in.  I know I can do it. It should not be hard. I got in first to get used to the water temp (about 19C – positively tropical compared to the 9C I’ve been swimming in in Scotland), had a little swim, a chat, took some pics, all the while psyching myself up.  I climbed up the ladder and stepped to the edge of the platform.  And then I panicked.  It was way too high.  And the water was so deep.  I would surely either gash my feet on the rocks below because I would fall so hard, or I would bash my head on the platform as I stepped off and drown.  This was not the most dignified ending I could imagine.  But then people were encouraging me, telling me I could do it, but what did they know?  Somebody matter-of-factly dived off the platform next to me, completely unaware of the drama playing out in my head, but he didn’t knock his head, or gash his feet, and it looked like he went a fair bit down before resurfacing and he didn’t drown. I know. But in the moment, the drama queen part of me takes over.  It was now or never.  I gave my camera to Bruce to capture the moment for posterity, thus making Mr CQ free to rescue me if I needed it and taking away any last get out clause that I might have had.  There would be photographic evidence of me not jumping in unless I grew a pair and jumped.  My legs were like jelly but suddenly I was like ‘Okay, 3 2 1 and I’m going’ and I went ‘3 2 1’ and jumped before I could change my mind or imagine some other such dramatic way to drown.  And guess what?  I didn’t drown!  I erupted through the surface in a thesaurus of profanities, coughing up almost the entire Adriatic, but I DID IT!!!  Jeez, it was all I could do to stop swearing long enough to get my crying under control, but the relief was huge.  I didn’t cry quite as much as the first time I managed to jump in in the pool, but it was just such a relief.  I stayed in long enough to stop crying, almost stop swearing, and kind of get my legs under control, but climbing up that ladder was almost as challenging.  I was SO proud of myself I told everybody I walked past to get dressed, and felt absolutely no guilt whatsoever in ordering a glass of champagne as my reward.  I think I smiled like a Cheshire Cat for the rest of the day.  THIS was why I had booked this cruise and I had done it.  

But then on Saturday, there was a swim stop after all.  I was telling myself I didn’t need to jump in, I’d done it, I didn’t need to keep doing it.  but really, I did.  I needed to prove, to myself if to nobody else, that yesterday wasn’t a fluke.  This was a new found skill, and I could just do it at a drop of a hat if I wanted to (she said, laughingly).  Well of course I jumped in.  I still needed to psych myself up to it.  I still had jelly legs.  I was confident enough to give Mr CQ the camera instead of him being on lifeguard duty and I did it.  I did still swear, but only once or twice.  I didn’t cry. Just. I actually managed to control my breathing enough not to swallow much, and I think I looked marginally more in control by the time I was getting out.  Another glass of champagne was required, and, I felt, just as well deserved.  

I don’t for a second think that I’ve cracked it.  Swimming out of my depth, and I deliberately didn’t ask how deep it was, will always be a challenge for me, I think.  I just can’t get the potential for drowning out of my head.  But I will still practice jumping in in my swim class.  I might progress to a dive bomb, but actually, the thought of pushing myself to dive in properly if I can do the same cruise again next year is ridiculously appealing.  What do you think?  And what would you do?  But that feeling of achievement for each of those little steps was huge.  Just huge.  I felt, and still feel stupidly proud of myself and can’t wait to tell everybody at swim class.  

But what about the rest of the holiday?  The rest was just lovely.  And the fact that I am totally considering doing it again, says everything.  I could go on, but I’m not sure you’d enjoy it quite as much as the Esperanza posse.

For the rest of this week, I am going to do my damndest to relax.  To get out of the 3-course-lunch habit.  The champagne late morning habit (although I don’t really want to).  I was hoping to get out of the shower and into the deep bubble bath habit but just right now the hot water isn’t playing, but we’ll sort that.  I have swim class on Wednesday and a much-needed physio session on Thursday, and that’s it until it is time to undo all of that new kitchen chaos, and I can think about scheduling a ‘say hello to my new kitchen’ cocktail party.  You’d think after a week in Midcraigs and a week on the Esperanza I’d be getting the hang of relaxing, but it is way harder than you think when there’s all this life to go on around you.  I’ll give it my best shot though!

But my final words do need to go to our company last week.  If we were to win the lottery I would definitely be chartering the Esperanza and inviting you all to join us for another fabulous week or two, with way more swim stops and quite possibly more before lunch champagne.  Thank you for your company, and I do hope to keep in touch with as many of you as I can.  If I haven’t found you on Facebook (if you’re on there of course), come find me as the Cocktail Queen, and it would be great to keep in touch.  Here’s to the next time!