I've tested the Monte Cristo challenge!

Where does the Monte Cristo challenge come from?

In 1830, in the imagination ofAlexandre Dumas, Edmond Dantès swam away from his prison at the Château d’If after 14 years of unjustified incarceration. Almost 2 centuries later, in real life this time, over 2,000 people over 3 days set off from the same Château, now a National Monument, to reach the coast. No longer to escape their jailers (phew), but for the pleasure of the sporting challenge, with the added bonus of a magnificent view of the harbour. And in the midst of all these crazy, over-motivated swimmers, I’m wondering if, like Edmond Dantès, I’m going to manage to swim those 5 kms.

Before the start…

On this Saturday at the beginning of June, we meet at 7.30 a.m. on the Prado beaches to pick up our caps and set off in groups on the boats that will take us to the Château d’If, from where we’ll all have to swim back. It’s easy to see how long the journey is, even by shuttle, and how muchphysical and mental effort lies ahead… Fortunately, the atmosphere on the boat is very friendly, and helps to hide the growing stress that is rising alarmingly within me.“This is my 8th edition” says my neighbor on the left, while the one on the right puts on her monofin, and explains that with her equipment she has to do everything in the butterfly stroke, which won’t stop her from certainly finishing among the first. Not sure whether my neighbors’ experience is reassuring or not, I prefer to concentrate on their infectious motivation, convinced that it’s going to be a great time.

In no time at all, a small group of 400 of us disembark on the quays of the Château d’If. A final water refreshment, and off we go for the race briefing. The most important thing to remember is to keep your head above water (literally) to make sure you’re following the course, so as to avoid making a detour via the Old Port, which would turn this 5K into a never-ending ordeal.

It’s now 8:30 a.m. and the start of the race is imminent. The huge mass of webbed swimmers in their green caps take to the water and head for the start line, just a few metres from the Château. We’re surrounded by an impressive armada ofkayaks, zodiacs and scooters, who will be on hand to guide us through the race, and repatriate us if anything goes wrong. But now is not the time to worry, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, we hear through the megaphone… and off we go!

The challenge begins!

As I imagined, the start is a huge mess, and I can’t help thinking that, from above, we must look like hungry little ants fighting for a crumb of bread. Fin blows to the head, immediate proximity to other swimmers, unexpected pile-ups, I even get the impression that some are swimming in a direction completely perpendicular to mine, it’s all so confusing. Fortunately, the different rhythms of each swimmer do their work, and very quickly the distances between swimmers widen, allowing everyone to move forward as if they owned the sea.

After a few hundred metres to get my breath and rhythm under control, I’m finally able to move forward a little more serenely, and pass the first buoy, which from memory is 930m from the start (only 4070 more to go, phew!). Next objective: Ile Degaby, which we skirt to the left, in order to get closer to the Corniche and follow the coast towards the Prado beaches. I think I’m now about 1.5km from the start, but the first signs of fatigue are already appearing. I’ve also given up trying to see anything at all, as my glasses are covered in fog.

Back on dry land

Now it’s time for the long straight stretch back to the finish. A dozen buoys to pass, which allow me to make the following observation: although I’ve prepared a few little conversation topics in my head to pass the time, they’re completely useless. As soon as I try to think about something else, all I can think about is the race, with the sole aim of moving forward (ideally as quickly as possible). This has been one of the most positive aspects of my experience: underwater, surrounded by complete silence, no stress about life, the shrinking bank account, the increasing kilos, nothing. The only thing that counts is the movement of arms and legs, coordinated by the brain and its mind of steel.

More than 1h30 after the start, exhausted but boosted by the imminent prospect of returning to dry land, I finally pass the penultimate buoy, this time with my sights set on the beach. Only 360m to go, but it seems so much longer… I can hear the crowd at the finish chanting my name from a distance, which is very flattering and stimulating… and also completely made-up, as my head is underwater and I have absolutely no idea what’s going on on the beach, I’m forced to imagine what’s around me. One last effort and 50 m, 30, 10, 3, 2, 1… that’s it, I DID IT! Leaving the water is a magical moment, I’m thrilled and proud of this accomplishment, which will have cost me, but was so worth it! When the “finisher ” medal is placed around my neck, it has the value of an Olympic medal for me (I’m obviously overdoing it, but my brain is a bit out of whack, like my whole body).

An accessible experience

I can’t recommend this experience enough, even for Sunday swimmers like me, who can choose from the many distances on offer, ranging from 1 to 6 kms. There’s something for everyone, and it’s a great way to experience what it’s like to swim in the sea. A flawless organization, a top-notch team of volunteers, both at the start and during the race, a competitive yet friendlyatmosphere, I’ll take nothing but positives from this challenge, and conclude with just a few words: see you next year!