One lap at a time

One lap at a time

The water is crystal blue. Clear. I can see black lines and the Ts contorted beneath shallow waters. A few random leaves have snuck in from nearby trees. I’m sitting on the end of the pool, sweating from the midday heat. My shoulders ache. They’re not used to this. My neck is stiff. But the pool looks cool and inviting. It calls me. Dares me. “What have you got in you today?” I’m tired. But all I need is to get one lap done. Then another. And another.

Escaping a Kingdom (Amman, Jordan, 1985)

Escaping a Kingdom (Amman, Jordan, 1985)

The agent showed me the two cheapest flights to Bangkok. The first was Romanian Airlines, who’s country was still behind the Iron Curtain and communist airlines didn’t fill me with confidence. The second was Royal Jordanian, the more reputable, more reliable and clearly the safest option. Both involved transit through the main airports of their respective capital cities: Bucharest and Amman. I laid down my £20 deposit and said to the agent: “I’ll take Romanian Airlines please”.