After the wind howled all through Tuesday night as well, we woke on Wednesday to see a blue sky. I couldn't believe it. The clouds had been so dense the previous day, it seemed impossible that it had blown itself out. I don't think I could make a living in an environment so changeable; I don't know how the pilots cope with it all.
Still very windy but France was visible again on Wednesday.
Without a doubt, the most stressful part of it all was deciding on the right day to swim. By the middle of the week most swimmers were being told 'Saturday the most likely' by their pilots, and Eddie had said 'probably Friday or Saturday'. The weather forecast looked really good for Saturday so I had settled myself that this would be the day.
What unsettled me was that I saw Duncan on Thursday and he said that his pilot had told him he was off the next day. I spoke to Kevin - what did he think? Duncan was the only swimmer going out on the Friday, which made me think I didn't need to worry. But what if Friday turned out to be half decent and then Saturday blew out.... I nearly walked a hole in the floor of the caravan with my pacing. What I really wanted was someone to make the decision for me.
Which is exactly what happened on Thursday night. I spoke to Eddie and he said Friday still looked a bit dodgy and we'd more than likely be off on Saturday. Finally, thank goodness. No decision on my part involved. Brilliant. Saturday it was.
We got quite a shock on Friday morning when we were having breakfast in our caravan and saw Duncan and his crew walking by the caravan. It turns out that when he spoke to his pilot the night before he had also been told Saturday.
Friday was spent putting all the gear together, mixing up the feeds and, of course, being interviewed by the BBC (which is what every normal aspiring channel swimmer fits into their preparation.)
The owners of the caravan park, Evelyn and David, are absolutely fantastic. They know that it's hard for overseas visitors to bring everything with them for the swim, so they have all the gear ready to loan out - feeding poles, packing boxes, blankets, hot water bottles, thermoses, light sticks, sea sickness tablets....
I had to pack and unpack my feed crate several times for the cameraman to shoot (riveting footage....), trying to pack everything in the same order each time, for continuity's sake. By this time I had memorised what was in the crate so well that I was quite sure we hadn't forgotten anything.
And so all that was left was to have a good pasta for dinner the night before and get an early night.
I had been waiting for this day for three years, ever since first listening to Murph talking about his swim before he came over to England. This time, there was none of the usual panic or nerves, just an absolute rock-solid belief that the next day I was going to swim to France.
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