tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21859438.post6655427932061160105..comments2024-02-28T15:50:11.308+00:00Comments on Five Centres: All going swimminglyUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21859438.post-26201693238965859562009-01-29T16:30:00.000+00:002009-01-29T16:30:00.000+00:00With me it was Salt'n'Shake crisps. In the golden ...With me it was Salt'n'Shake crisps. In the golden summer of 1975, between primary and secondary school, I went swimming at the open-air pool in the park in Bushey something like 50 days running, and I nearly always treated myself to a packet of Salt'n'Shake afterwards. Oh, and sometimes a Cresta, too.TimThttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14953081013855148796noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21859438.post-67812554586769070182009-01-29T12:16:00.000+00:002009-01-29T12:16:00.000+00:00I taught myself to swim, wearing flippers in a nei...I taught myself to swim, wearing flippers in a neighbour's pool that we helped build in about 1978. I hated swimming lessons too. I remember Aunty Marjorie used to take us to Penrith Swimming Baths every Sunday and we always had Monster Munch from the vending machine afterwards. Of course, they were miles bigger than nowadays!Helenhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08500039944228934716noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21859438.post-76432917614480211042009-01-29T11:49:00.000+00:002009-01-29T11:49:00.000+00:00The memory of chlorine burning the inside of my no...The memory of chlorine burning the inside of my nose makes me shudder to this day. I learned to swim but never learned to enjoy it, so even now I hardly ever get in the pool. <BR/><BR/>But Bovril crisps were also an integral and vaguely redeeming part of the experience. Seems it was a universal phenomenon.There must be some chemical link between the taste of sodden corn plasters and that of Bovril.Kolley Kibberhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07055145770836351738noreply@blogger.com