Swimming in Singapore

by Victoria Bromley

We thought it was about time our monthly prompt was on the theme of Swim, so your favourite Swim Press team is all pitching in to deliver their versions!

We have a swim while the sheets are drying. Our flight got in early so our bed’s not made yet. I wouldn’t usually mind but after a thirteen-hour flight, my bones are tired.

The Singaporean heat is stifling. A blaze of humidity which dampens the air. My skin is slick with sweat, my back wet before I even lower myself into the water. I stretch out my limbs, push up my stomach, and float. I’m too weary to swim, but he was excited by the pool, and I’m here for him as I am for myself. Our first holiday abroad, although when Brits say abroad, they often mean Europe, not Asia.

‘It’s very green,’ he says.

I hum in agreement. On the ride from the airport all I could see were green spaces, trees and leaves climbing up buildings. A jungle metropolis.

‘The water’s very blue,’ he then says.

The colours here are so vivid.

‘I think the blue is just reflected from the bottom of the pool.’ I don’t know why I say this, it ruins it slightly. He knows I’m tired. We’re both exhausted.

Dolphin statues spurt water from their mouths. I reach out my hand and enjoy the pressure of the water spraying over me. Tiny beads pool on my skin and I lace them together, forming one giant droplet until it slides off my arm and I start again.

He’s swimming lengths. Exercise after such a long journey makes sense, but I can’t make my body move. I fear I’ll just sink. So I stay in the shallow end and keep myself cool. It may take a few days to get used to this heat, or maybe the whole week we’re here will be spent acclimatising, then to leave and have to readjust all over again.

I look up. The clouds draw in. A rumble then a pause. I can hear it before it reaches us, sheets of water falling through the air then slicing into the pool. It’s warm. Of course the rain here is warm, I don’t know why I didn’t expect it. It feels like the pool will overflow with the surplus, but it doesn’t. A tidal flow of water around us.

Maybe the sheets are dry now and the bed is ready, but we keep swimming, just a bit longer.