5.30pm, July, the M25. Cars sat nose to tail, wheezing hot diesel fumes, which mingled with the exhaust raining down from the Heathrow flight path. The sun beat through the windscreen making us sweat. Everything smelled of dust.
We had been on the road for seven hours, and the prospect of spending two more analysing the back of a lorry somewhere near Staines was unappealing. I made a break for the exit towards Heathrow Terminal 5.
Except we weren’t going to the airport, but in search of London’s old gravel pits. I had read about the gravel pits on the Wild Swimming website – dotted around the outskirts of the capital, now filled with water and wildlife, and even the odd wild swimmer.
20 minutes later we were floating on our backs in a lake less than a mile behind the motorway. We had left the car at Wraysbury Station, headed left down Station Road, then left again down Tithe Lane. Past the old farm, then along the narrow path. We stripped off and jumped in as soon as we found a trodden route down to the water.
Closing our ears to the planes and cars, this was idyllic, rural England. The M25 seemed like a weird, dystopian story we told to scare each other. Here, the only other traffic in sight was a family of swans gliding past a few hundred metres away.
It was wild swimming in its best context – a desperate, unplanned escape from the modern world. A great wild swim removes you from ordinary life. It has that illicit feeling – is this allowed? Can I really take my clothes off here? We’re so used to the landscape being out of bounds or private that claiming a random body of water for your own is a thrill.
It’s supposed to rain for the rest of July, but that only means that Britain’s best wild swimming spots will be even emptier than usual. This week we are heading to Three Shires Head in the Peak District to swim under the waterfalls. I’d love to know about your favourite spots and where you plan to swim this summer – let me know in the comments below.
