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Swimming is a sort of shared solitude. And when it comes to swimming the English Channel, the endless blue becomes the sum of fears, aspirations and dreams. One moment you see it and the next moment you don’t. When someone swims for hours on end, the only ally and enemy, I suppose, is oneself. The sea and the English Channel have always been there, and the swimmer who attempts to cross them becomes a kind of intruder. The sea does what it always does: Continue its life of endless movement, while at the same time becoming a witness in the search of personal challenges and achievements. It also becomes witness to the drama of men and women who live through a special kind of solitude for many hours.
In these pages you will read the story of two people who tell in their own words how they spent many hours in the endless blue sea. This sea became part of their lives. This sea has been transformed into eternity in their memories. In the sea and in the Channel, they knew well that even if they saw or knew intuitively where the goal was, what always prevails is the wonder that defines the endless and deep blue: “We could say that the sea has no beginning, you see it the first time, but then it is everywhere.”