Freediving, Yoga, and Monofins in Greece - Part 1
Posted By Emma Farrell on 3 March 2003
**Editors note - Writer Emma Farrell had to opportunity to train and dive with Aharon and MT Solomans on the Island of Paxos. Her experiences are serialized over four parts.
Here is where it all began.**
I had been freediving eight months and despite two weekends at the SETT tank (Descending feet first being pulled by Lee Donnelly and a ten kilo weight belt), pool sessions in Chester and three visits to the freezing, dark and very smelly Dorothea, I still considered myself a complete beginner. My monofin was about as pleasant to wear as running a marathon in a pair of ill-fitting stilettos, my duck dives were somersaults, and I had been told that if I didn't learn the frenzel I would never be able to equalise headfirst. After battling in vain with Eric Fattah's clear and sensible document I decided that the only option was to go on a course somewhere sunny and warm.
So at the beginning of September 2002 I found myself on the way to a beginners' freediving course followed by a monofin course with Aharon and MT Solomons and their guests, the Russian team monofin coaches Alexey and Igor on the idyllic island of Paxos. Little did I know that in those two weeks I would see the snow capped mountains of Albania, followed by the bottom of the ocean, meet a British record holder, cook a curry for four nationalities, discover what the Russians mean by 'training', and watch Scooby-doo with a four year old.
Below is my diary of those two weeks, the highs and the lows.
Saturday 7th
Trying to get a monofin on board, as hand luggage was so not going to
happen. I had prepared several blatantly useless excuses ranging from 'I'm
an athlete going to compete in the world finswimming championships', through
to the desperate 'Don't you know who I am?!' It was never going to work.
They 'placed' it in the hold at the last minute and I only prayed that the
monkeys at the other end would notice the 'fragile' and 'do not bend'
stickers. I arrived at Corfu airport at 4 in the morning and still managed
to miss the connecting ferry at 7am by 30 seconds because they had moved it
half a mile up the quayside. Two other ferries and a taxi later I arrived in
a state of exhaustion in the beautiful village of Lakka to be greeted by a
young English man who looked like a racoon.
'Hello Emma, how are you?' he says.
I have never seen this guy before in my life and he certainly isn't Aharon. 'Err hello?' When sanity has returned he reminds me that we met at the SETT tank and that he had lent me his ankle weights in my vain attempt to leave the surface. 'Oh my god it's you! I still have the scars on my ankles! And, er, what happened to your face?' It turns out that this is what happens after a week in the sun wearing a mask and hooded wetsuit. Only certain areas go brown. Hence the racoon look. I made a mental note that this was NOT going to happen to me. He introduced me to Jean Reno look-alike named Richard who had also just completed the course and I sat down to hear all about the course. They raved about it and suggested that we go up the hill the next day so I could meet Aharon and MT.
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