Over many years, my body has become acclimatised to cold water (in the winter, I am a regular at Hampstead ponds), but I make sure that when the water is really cold, my swims are extremely brief and I never stray far from the shore. Health-wise, rather than going down with some unspeakable disease, my swims (generally early morning) have boosted my immune system and given me an incredible endorphin charge on a daily basis. And the pleasure of swimming in natural surroundings – sometimes alongside ducks, storks and swans – is immeasurable.
Yes, there are risks but as Kate Rew reminded me in a recent conversation, all life involves an element of risk. The point with wild swimming is to minimise the dangers
Earlier this month, on another outing out of London, I found myself in the charming Cotswolds town of Lechlade on Thames and established from a local shopkeeper where the best spots for bathing were. Two early morning dips later, I moved downstream to the tiny village of Buscot where I discovered a weir and a pond-like bulge in the river around which families sat in the sun before cooling off in the wonderfully refreshing (and reassuringly slow-moving) waters. It was an idyllic scene, enhanced by the fact that so many of us were enjoying it together. And while not for a second downplaying the tragic incidents of the past three weeks, it would be a great shame if we became too fearful to enjoy pleasures such as these or, even worse, if they were taken from us through legislation.
This weekend, I will look for somewhere suitably inviting along the River Cam. I will do my research, I will exercise caution, I will make sure that in addition to being able to get in, I have located a spot from which I can get out. I will test the waters. Then I will take the plunge.