You will really enjoy this story from Jos Biggs today. 

Proving that it is always possible to have new experiences!

With no difficulty at all my niece talked me into going swimming with them - this invitation had all the hallmarks of a new experience for me. Not so much the swimming, I’ve done that before, but I’ve never swum in a salt water pool before, let alone an indoor salt water pool!

I was promised that the pool would be as hot as a tepid bath, so there would be no need for the squeak-inducing preliminaries that I normally have to go through before my body will tolerate immersion.

There was a strategy to the morning’s proceedings; Put the swimmy on before leaving home, and put normal clothes on on top. Thus the time spent in the changing cubicle would be minimised, and swimming time would be maximised.

Therefore I clad myself in - from the inside out - my swimmy, which is black, then summer top with my bottom half regaled in black knickers over my black swimmy and under my cut-off leggings.

We entered the impressive enclosed environs of the pool, which is heated to a confidence inspiring but sweat-inducing temperature. The pool itself is half as big again as mine, and a lot deeper.

I undressed, and set about getting into the water. That was a problem; there was no handrail, so I lowered myself onto hands and knees, from there onto my bottom, swung my legs in, and followed them.

I then discovered that the pool slopes steeply, so I staggered down, hanging nervously on to the pool side so as not to fall in, (I didn’t want to get wet!) and launched myself towards the far end.

Eventually I reached it, turned and set off back to the shallow end. 

I intended to swim back to a depth which would allow me to rise upright in a dignified manner as befits a lady of my status, but I swam too far. I discovered this when my knees hit the bottom - it is very difficult to achieve the perpendicular in only two feet of water; I floundered like a hydrophobic octopus, and eventually managed to get my feet, as opposed to my knees, on the bottom.

But the lesson was learnt, I had the measure of the shallow end, and cheerfully covered the length up and down as many times as my exhausted and unfit body would allow.

Post-swim I went into the shower cubicle intent on showering, obviously, and restoring myself to a clothed condition, without the swimmy.

I slipped the shoulder straps down and proceeded to peel the swimmy down. It reached my hips and stuck fast. Swimmies are by definition tight and clingey, but this one absolutely refused to pass my hips and leave my body.

Well, I thought, if it won’t roll down from the top, then I will pull it down from the bottom. It was then that I discovered that when undressing I had forgotten to remove my knickers - they were clinging desperately to my bottom on the outside of my swimmy, no doubt terrified by the experience of their saline immersion.

I had been swimming with my knickers on over my swimmy. Worse, nobody told me!