Pondlife: A Swimmer's Journal

by Al Álvarez

The ponds of Hampstead Heath are small oases; fragments of wild nature nestled in the heart of north-west London. For the best part of his life Al Alvarez--poet, critic, novelist, rock-climber and poker player--has swum in them almost daily.

An athlete in his youth, Alvarez, now in his eighties, chronicles what it is to grow old with humor and fierce honesty--from his relentlessly nagging ankle which makes daily life a struggle, to infuriating bureaucratic battles with the council to keep his disabled person's Blue Badge, the devastating effects of a stroke, and the salvation he finds in the three Ss--Swimming, Sex and Sleep.

As Alvarez swims in the ponds he considers how it feels when you begin to miss that person you used to be--to miss yourself. Swimming is his own private form of protest against the onslaught of time; proof to others, and himself, that he's not yet beaten.

By turns funny, poetic and indignant, Pondlife is a meditation on love, the importance of life's small pleasures and, above all, a lesson in not going gently in to that good night.

Genres: Memoir, Nonfiction, Biography, Nature, Outdoors, Autobiography

288 pages, Paperback

First published February 1, 2013

About the author

Alfred Alvarez was an English poet, novelist, essayist and critic who published under the name A. Alvarez and Al Alvarez.

Reviews

[Paul]

You wouldn’t believe that our capital city, London, can co-exist with the natural world any more. But it can. In Hampstead Heath there are three ponds that are used extensively by wildlife and also by swimmers. They are open all year round and regardless of weather, Alverez has swum in them almost daily.

Better know as a poet and literary critic, in the past he has been an athlete and rock climber and has played quite a bit of poker too. This journal documents every time he swam from 2002 up to 2011. In each entry he has recorded the water temperature, the people and friends he sees there most days as well as the wildlife he encounters whilst swimming around. As he grows older, and suffers a multitude of health issues, the swimming becomes less frequent, and even getting there can be troublesome at times.

It is a brutally honest memoir too. You sense his frustrations with his declining health, his anger at dealing with petty bureaucrats and his writing commitments. What comes across almost every time he swims is the pure pleasure he gets from taking a dip, preferring the cooler months when the water ebbs away his aches and pains. He is keen observer too, noticing the tiniest details in the sky, the colour of the water and the way that the seasons move relentlessly on, as he slips into the water and glides slowly round the pond. The writing is sparse, beautiful, and almost metronomic at times, as he writes about his habitual daily swim. It was a real pleasure to read too.

[Rebecca]

I read the first 57 pages but found the entries fairly repetitive. The book spans nine years, but up to that point it was all set in 2002, when Alvarez was 73, and he reported so frequently that the conditions (weather, etc.) at the Hampstead Heath ponds didn’t differ enough to keep this interesting. Unless he’s traveling, you can count on each entry remarking on the traffic getting there, the relative scarcity or overabundance of fellow swimmers at the pond, the chilly start and the ultimately invigorating, calming effect of the water. Impressive that he’d been taking early-morning swims there since age 11, though.

Favorite line (from a warm, late June day): “the water is like tepid soup – duck soup with swan-turd croutons.”

[Moira McPartlin]

Finding Al Alvarez - this is my blog post about finding this book and the author.

A couple of weeks ago I was in London. A sweltering, tourist crowded, sweaty, dirty London. I jumped on the number 24 bus at the bottom of Tottenham Court Road and within thirty minutes I reached Hampstead Heath. I have never been before, had only see it on films and TV – Notting Hill, Smiley’s People. I expected it to be like the other London Parks, manicured and prim but it is not, Hampstead Heath is wild.
I began my walk at Hampstead Railway Station and scuffed by feet uphill through rough newly cut grass. Benches perched randomly on the hillside, left for anyone willing to climb the slope to take in the breadth and beauty of the trees and the odd glimpse of the city.
Two competent dog walkers with twelve dogs between them seemed comfortable with the surroundings so I followed them for a bit then swung low to meet a well-made path. This took me to a causeway where two boys fished in a pond. Notices advised against disturbing the water in respect of the swimmers. Swimmers? At the far end of the pool was a jetty behind which wooden huts huddled. In the water I noticed a bald head heading toward a string of buoys about twenty five metres from the jetty. An elderly gentleman, the only one in the water, reached the barrier and hugged it, taking in great whoops of breath. Bravo, I thought and before I had the chance to take out my camera, he was thrashing back the way he came. This was the Mixed Pool.

From here I climbed Parliament Hill where I was rewarded with the iconic view of London only previously seen on the small screen but I was then saddened to see a dejected English football supporter, draped in his flag, gazing with awe at his green and pleasant land; wondering no doubt where all his World Cup dreams had gone.
I followed the path down to Highgate, toyed with the idea of looking for Karl Marx but in the end caught a bus back to Kings Cross.
Walking is hungry work so I stopped off at The Quakers’ Friends House café for lunch. This decision was impulsive. I had been passing the place every morning for the past week, it was close to my hotel and the menu on the board outside looked tempting. And they had a bookshop!
The lunch can only be described as OK. A dry scotch egg with salad. The bookshop was more interesting. I am not religious but am interested in the different philosophies religions explore. This bookshop had many on offer but one book caught my eye.
Pondlife by Al Alvarez.
I have been familiar with Al Alvarez’s work for a number of years. I always believed he was an American Climber who was also an excellent writer. I have enjoyed many of his articles, stories and poems in various climbing magazines through the years. He wrote the introduction to the iconic short story collection The Games Climbers Play. I vaguely remembered he played poker.
I read the blurb about his previous publications, it turns out he is British and a writer who climbs, how could I have got that so wrong? The book was subtitled A Swimmers Journal; he had added another activity to his already full portfolio.
I almost fainted with shock when I read the author’s profile and saw his photo. The book charts the last few years of the author's swims in pools at Hampstead Heath and charts his slow decline into old age. The photo shows an old man, bald head, and grey moustache above a rather pained smile. I was convinced the man I saw was Al Alvarez.
The coincidence made me giddy. What made me go to those pools? I had no idea they were there. What made me go to the Quaker House? The only reason I picked up that particular book was I knew the name – I thought he was an American climber! It was weirder than weird.
Of course I had to buy the book.
The journals begin in 2002 and charts Alvarez as he stumbles from his home near the Heath to the pond for his swim. He swims all year round and along with a daily water temperature note he lists the birds and the blossom, the changing seasons. There is a real sense and love of the place. The shifting cast of characters are wonderful, fellow swimmers and lifeguards. It is like an old boys club and very companionable. The author is troubled by a bad ankle that plagues his walking and as the years spread over the pages he becomes more and more debilitated, suffering a stroke and many falls. His frustration is heart breaking but I shy from feeling sorry for him because that is what he loathes most. By the end of the book his life is a constant battle against pain and his declining years. This is an amazing insight into what we all must face one day; this man’s struggles should give us the courage to face it with dignity.
The book ends in 2011 and by the end I began to doubt whether it was Al Alvarez I saw that day. I hope it was because it means he is still winning.

[Liz Moffat]

A book which starts chronicling the life at Hampstead Heath Ponds, wild life, plant life and human life. A place I didn't even know existed, but Al Alvarez has swam there regularly all of his life. The book is a diary covering his late seventies into his eighties and gradually becomes an account of what most of us will face, old age and decrepitude. I like to think of Al still swimming there yet, even periodically and perhaps he is. But this book is a wonderful record of the community who meet there regularly in all weathers to swim and restore their body balance. Uplifting and sad at the same time.

[Wendy Greenberg]

I swung between loving the routine of diary entries, water temperature and the well-being of outdoor swimming and feeling I was invading this very personal pleasure! However "exposure" seems to be the name of the game, the hardiness of the cold-water swimmer perhaps.

I enjoyed how much of the writing was a masterclass in mindfulness, noticing small things and taking simple pleasures. These were my favourite sections. Where species were nesting (or resting), simple descriptions of the day, the weather. I found that the more routine/repetitive the entries, the more I was propelled to continue reading. However empowering this routine, the author is ageing and his rage seeps through and these parts are a different type of diary.

A fascinating read

[Grace]

An interesting read which I went into expecting a memoir about the Hampstead Heath Ponds, but it was so much more. As the book progressed it become more about the process of aging and getting old.

Even though I did enjoy many sections of the book, especially the descriptions of the ponds. Pondlife did become rather repetitive and at times a little boring.

[Luis García]

Al principio el libro es casi un mero registro de las visitas de Alvarez a los estanques de Hampstead Heath; pequeñas entradas que describen minuciosamente el clima, la temperatura del agua, las aves de los alrededores y la vegetación. Personalmente creí que terminaría cansándome de 300 páginas de lo mismo; sin embargo, poco a poco el libro gana en profundidad y se convierte en otra cosa. Termina siendo, además de un diario de nado, un diario acerca de la experiencia de envejecer, de irse enemistando cada vez más con el propio cuerpo y, a pesar de eso, amar el hecho de estar vivo. Una belleza.

[Lynda]

Al Alvarez writes a swimming journal which really turns out to be a journal of ageing and refusal to go gently into the good night. Come rain, wind, snow or shine, amidst swans, ducks and a solitary heron with a bunch of maverick Life Guards and elder statesmen from all walks of life Alvarez swims and the aches and pains of old age drop away from him

As one would expect from a poet there are lyrical descriptions of the seasons, the wildlife and the iconic Hampstead Heath, interspersed with glimpses of his home life with his wife Anne in Italy and London.

[Margaret]

I felt I couldn’t give a rating because this book is a diary and it doesn’t seem appropriate to rate someone’s diary. Having said that, I found it fascinating to read what I assume is a very honest account of what it’s like to lose one’s former vigorous health and strength as old age creeps up. It’s also interesting to read how the writer reacts to the process with rage and how his family and friends are a constant support. The descriptions of the changing seasons on the writer’s beloved Hampstead Heath and the ponds where he swam from childhood are wonderful.

[León Álamos]

Diario de un nadador bien podría ser el diario de una demolición. Al Álvarez narra su afición por los estanques de Hampstead Heath y Highgate en el norte de Londres, a lo largo de una década, hasta sus casi 80 años, costumbre que llevaba desde sus tiernos 11. Son sus paisajes, las estaciones, las aves peregrinas, los ciclos de los árboles y las flores, pero también son las fuerzas menguadas, el tiempo que arruina. "De lo que nadie habla es de la frustración que causa la vejez, de la humillación constante, de la ira ciega que genera", anota en una de las entradas.

[Tourniquet]

el poder de escritura de este hombre es increíble! este diario comienza siendo sobre natación y aunque he leído muchas reseñas diciendo que la temática se les hacía repetitiva yo creo que es porque creo yo (y quizás me equivoco) que hay que ver más allá y sentir. en la primera parte que refiere únicamente a la natación yo sentí a un hombre amando la vida y los regalos de la naturaleza en su concepción de virtudes y defectos, él celebraba la vida con sus partes buenas y malas.
pero de repente el diario empieza a mutar y empieza a relatar las desmejorías de la vejez, el escritor tiene la capacidad de generar empatía, tengo 25 años y me hizo conectar con el desgaste del cuerpo que voy a sufrir (si no muero antes) en al menos 40 años. es muy poderoso, sincero y tremendo el relato de Al, para mí escribe maravillosamente pero sí es cierto que quizás si esperás una lectura acelerada y concisa este no es tu libro a no ser que estes dispuesto a aminorar la marcha y quedarte a escuchar a un tipo hablar de su casi día a día.


para mí fue un viaje y una compañía hermosa, fue una lectura inspiradora y positiva por su amor honesto a la vida y la naturaleza y muy interesante por lo que lamentablemente tuvo que relatar de su envejecimiento. lo recomiendo mucho!

[Antony]

This book turns out not to be about swimming at all, it is really about aging. The first part of the book records an obsession with a regular pond swimming ritual. Other aspects of the author's life only mentioned as they impacts on this routine. As his health declines the pond swimming becomes a thing to cling to and the book becomes a meditation on aging and dying. "Now there's not that much time left, the point is to enjoy what's on offer in this beautiful planet - and that includes one's own continuing presence in it." "As usual Beckett got it right: 'You must go on, I can't go on, I'll go on.'"

A really lovely book - highly recommended.

[Steve Chilton]

The second book in a row that didn't live up to author expectations. Give me 'Feeding the rat' any day. Writing about aging is all very well, but it is hard to make it uplifting, and this borders on the moribund. The descriptions of the ponds, the swims, and the natural world are very good though. I would sum up the book with a phrase from another reviewer, that applies to this world in many ways too - 'beautiful but sad'.

[Melissa]

4.25* A meditative journal on nature, aging, and the things that keep us going. I feel I could revisit this book, two and five decades on and get entirely different reads from it each time.

[Belinda]

This book is a published journal of Al's love of Hampstead heath swimming ponds, his regular weekly swims, the seasons, birds, his own physical decline, poker (not interested at all in that bit) and his love for his wife. There's also a lot of honourable mentions to the lifesavers at the pond, children and friends.

I found it, for the most part, a beautiful book to read. Al's descriptions of the trees blooming, the scent of hawthorn, the golden leaves of Autumn, imperious herons and angry swans, etc, were lovely. The focus on nature outweighs, until the last 1/4 of the book, his gripes about his ankle injury and the misery of ageing.

I admit that that last quarter of the book started to get me down, but it also made me annoyed with Al because he kept pushing himself to do things he could have let go. He kept working, surely he had money, his wife was a well known child psychologist who worked the lecture circuit. He could afford a brand new car, trips to Italy (I believe he owned a home there), a lifelong gambling habit, and the joys of eating out at fine restaurants.
As one of his Dr's said to him, "Why are you still working?" This was after he had a stroke because he did a 6 hour day, then spent 3 hours gambling online, plus he managed a swim. Excuse me? You're over 70, slow the f$ck down.

But overall this book was a pleasure to read and I ended up liking Al. Despite his obvious privilege he was also a nice man who didn't have any truck with narrow and biased people.

Interestingly, he makes out he's on death's door in the last few pages, but he lived until he was 90, so he was a good 10 years away from that.

[BrianDuffy]

This book gives getting old a bad name !! That equals the total number of jokes in the entire book! Seriously!! It’s really a book in two parts. The first most enjoyable part is a day by day diary of Al’s “al fresco” swimming with water temperature, weather and flora and fauna descriptions which if he had kept it to just a one year cycle “al la” the later Netflix documentary would have been perfect. Instead he extends for a further nine years which becomes of course highly repetitive given the limited scope and no wonder as it proceeds that he himself can hardly raise the enthusiasm to keep writing so you can imagine how the reader feels. At the beginning of the book he is 73 and already on his last leg as the ankle on the other one has packed in and from this ailment seems to come a series of ailments which he attributes to ageing leaving him a shell of his former self. Although he still manages to live another 8 years after the end of the book although goodness knows how. It’s hard not to reach the conclusion that he may have put too much faith in cold water swimming to delay the ageing process and might have better spent the money he spent on a new car and holidays abroad on getting his ankle fixed when he was younger. Of course reading of the decline of anyone’s physical and mental health is no laughing matter and so it proves a depressing slog through the years for writer and reader together. Having said all of this I am now reading one of his other books as I did find him an interesting character and enjoyed his writing style.

[Sophy H]

This book, although supposedly about outdoor swimming through all weathers; is admittedly described by the author, more about ageing, maturing and depreciating through increasingly rough metaphorical weathers.

Alvarez is naturally charming and has a breezy conversational approach to writing which draws you in. Then when he hits with a unexpected pique of sadness at his ever diminishing abilities and physical potential, it makes it all the more doleful.

He describes the changing of the seasons, through the weather, the warmth of the water, the trees and birds, and indeed through his changing body.

Beautifully throughout, despite his rapidly declining physical health, his emotional health shows to be as sharp as ever, with descriptions of his wife and their relationship affectionately handled.

One favourite passage of mine is this:-

"This book on old age seems to have been overtaken by its subject; that is, by the things that come with old age- exhaustion, sickness and complaint.........Bodily decrepitude is a prison. You are shut in with a boring and vindictive jailer, who happens to be yourself........."

Thankfully Alvarez never takes to the jailer role well, choosing instead to brave the icy waters of courage and valour. And he takes us along for a splash!

Delightful read.

[Grant Ellis]

I found this book very repetitive. There is no doubt that he was a good writer but each diary entry was the same: weather report, update on how weak his ankle was, increasing feelings of getting old and anxiety, the restorative powers of an ice cold swim.
He was asked to write about getting old and I felt throughout the book like he was laying it all on a bit thickly, fulfilling his brief. He actually passed away while I was reading this book at the age of 90 so he still had 10 years to live after this book was published and yet you would be led to believe he was on deaths door.
I was bought this book as I am keen swimmer. Whilst swimming was central to his life, the books main theme was growing old. Perhaps the fact that I read this whilst reading John Updike's Rabbit at Rest - also about growing old and dying, compounded my views but I actually looked forward to reading something more upbeat and positive.

[Fati]

Un libro con una esencia que me deslumbró. No sabía qué esperar de él y terminó siendo una experiencia única.

La manera en cómo su propio autor nos comparte pedacitos de sus días y de esa relación tan especial que tenía con su lago, me llegó al alma. Disfruto mucho cuando puedo sentir en mi propia piel lo que estoy leyendo y sin dudas que Al tuvo la capacidad de relatar de tal forma, que era muy sencillo poder situarse junto a él, en sus propias experiencias.

Un libro que supe desmenuzar de a poco, pero que con cada bocanada, sentía que me transmitía reflexiones muy interesantes de analizar. Y eso es justamente lo que tiene este tipo de lectura, que me permiten retrotraerme a mi propia vida y sacar interesantes conclusiones de varios temas.
Es cierto que por momentos sentía que caía en una monotonía, pero fue justamente por eso que la lectura de a poco... pausando y retomando con toda la atención n.n

[Donna]

This was an interesting find at Margaret Law's book sale.
Al Alvarez swims outdoors near his home in London. He writes about this, always on the weather and the water. The lifeguards, his fellow swimmers and his beloved wife are mentioned often but seem secondary to his thoughts on his world.

I thought this would be the perfect bed time book and in many ways it was. Just the musings of an over 60 guy who likes to swim outdoors in all weather. But as the book went on, I realized that he was writing a lot about aging. It really got me thinking about my own mortality. Perhaps not the perfect bed time book after all!

[Heather Boundy]

I enjoyed the descriptions of Alvarez's swimming in the ponds at Hampstead Heath and the effects of cold-water swimming on his life, both physically and mentally. Some of the word pictures of the birds and changing scenery on the heath were evocative, but did become a little repetitious after a while. His deteriorating health was sad to read, but again became quite self-indulgent as his depression over his ageing body progressed. His health certainly deteriorated, and it was amazing that he was able to keep swimming as much as he did but the tone certainly changed over the length of the memoir. Perhaps that is what he wanted most to document.

[Clare Pawta]

Al swims to renew himself. He might go in frazzled, with an increasingly bothersome ankle. He always comes out feeling wonderful.
He loves the cold water of Hampstead Heath's ponds. His commentary on the birds, fellow swimmers and nature are always refreshing.
I find this book so therapeutic that have just finished reading it for the third time.
I too love swimming but don't dare to go in as cold water as Al.
The book gives me hope that however decrepit we might become in old age, we can always find something to repair us.

[B]

The majority of journal entries serve as a precise of the entire book. The book can therefore feel repetitive.
However, it serves as good inspiration to swim and make time for the little things that are enjoyable. It's also a good reminder to literally look up and enjoy the natural world and it has some great literary references from King Lear to Poncho Villa.
Well written with scarce but precise language, revels in the British tradition of self-deprecation and the author is very honest (and almost savage in some parts).

[Leandro Segado]

Un diario sobre la vejez. Sobre el paso del tiempo en la «cárcel» del cuerpo. Un diario de un nadador de mas de 75 años, que cada día que se sumerje a nadar en lls estanques públicos de Londres, siente que revive. Una mirada irónica sobre lo que le va pasando al mismo Al.
Dia a dia, con temperaturas del agua que superan por poquísimo los 0 grados centígrados, Al se sumerge y describe lo que le pasa a él y lo que ve (las aves, los árboles, etc) y el cambio que las estaciones va generando.

También es un libro sobre el amor entre (con su pareja, con sus migos, hijos, nietos) .

[Helen Lehndorf]

I LOVED this book. Perfect for the mood I've been in lately (philosophical and tetchy).

Al Alvarez is by turns wise, funny, grumpy, audacious, romantic...his swimming diary, because it covers him from ages of 73-80, become an account of aging. He rages against his dying light with great insight and truth.

I especially loved that he didn't feel the need to end on a positive upswing. A brilliant project-based book.

[Luisseff]

The Hampstead Heath ponds are a tiara of small lakes around this part in the North of London. Three of these ponds are open to be swum by the people and Al is a regular swimmer here for ages. What starts as a swimmers' diary turns out to be a raw description but with a touch of humour of what it means to ageing, the effect and decay in our bodies as we get older. As a open water swimmer myself and as someone who is also ageing (like anyone else) I found the book very interesting and enjoyable.

[Sue]

I absolutely love this journal of the delightful Al Alvarez’s love affair with outdoor swimming in the Hampstead ponds. Maybe it is because I love outdoor swimming and hope I can continue to enjoy it as I age, but AA’s honesty and delight in the simple pleasure of moving in (cold) water whilst observing the birds around him has been lovely to live with. I’m going to London in two weeks and hope to make a pilgrimage to Al’s piece of paradise and swim, cold as it will be.

[Gabrielle]

This was not what I was expecting! I came in thinking I would read a book about outdoor swimming and the ponds I love, but this was far more... A very precious and naked glimpse into Al's life in these years that seem very far off for me. A reminder that life and beauty and health, and the ability to walk on our own legs even, are so easily taken for granted...

[Kerree]

The book is one suitable for lovers of poetry, ponds, birds, nature, and insights into various matters such as getting old.
There is, for me, a beauty in those entries about cold swimming. It's the quiet and the way surroundings are described that moves me. This is largely due to my poetry writing.

[Sheila Wyver]

Diary style book of Al Alvarez, author, poker player and pond swimmer. A book to dip in to read. Enjoyed the swimming descriptions but there’s a lot about ageing and increasing decrepitude so sometimes it’s rather depressing!