Learning To Swim On The Rye

A Memory of High Wycombe.

I was born in Amersham Hospital in 1956. It should have been the Shrubbery, but it was full on the day I decided I had had enough of the womb.
Cut to the mid 60's and I'm a student at Crown House Primary in London Road opposite the Rye, a tiny private 6 class room, 11+cram school in an attractive Georgian residence.
Happy memories there and yes, I passed what was really a glorified IQ test in 1967, and went to Borlases in Marlow on the Thames Valley 28 bus.
Back to Crown House, and there were swimming lessons for the top two classes from April to July.
I was very excited.
What a let down it was.
That pool (still there and perhaps optimistically known as "Wycombe Rye Lido") was never more than about 50F and if you were lucky they added a bit of water to the chlorine and you could occasionally see the bottom.
We all stood in the shallow end and shivered for half the lesson while unclear instructions were yelled out by the bored teacher (who never ever got in of course). It must have been the task for the teacher who was on the outer with Mrs Garland, the Crown House headmistress.
"Hold the rail, put you face under water and kick" was about the strength of it.
After half an hour of this torture, we were allowed to get out and if you were lucky, there might be a gallon or two of hot water left for a shower.
Otherwise it was a miserable teeth chattering, eyes aching walk back across the Rye for more lessons.
Oddly, I still used to get excited about it, even though a frigid walk across the pool supposedly with face under water and lame freestyle arm movements was as far as I and almost everyone else got in two seasons.
Hard to believe but almost nobody learnt to swim before leaving for high school.

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