I remember my first – and last swimming classes, where my mum took me. She wanted so much for me to learn to swim, perhaps because she was afraid of water herself, even though she grew up on the banks of the Danube. The coach handed me a wooden board and said: “Swim.” I did my best, but being the youngest and smallest on the team, I always ended up at the far end of the pool. He didn’t bother much with me – every now and then he would glance over and say, “Just swim.” After two or three classes, I told my mum I wasn’t going back, as I was being completely ignored. The one upside, though, was that at least he never yelled at me…