I STARTED looking for somewhere to swim in London three or four years ago. Somewhere outdoors, preferably a little bit cold and with little to no chlorine, which can do no one any good.
My introduction to it all began in the River Isis in Oxford during my days at university (disclaimer: Brookes). At the weekends, groups of us would cycle through the city’s golden streets and stagger down grassy banks, squishy underfoot, and into the water, much to the annoyance of practising boat crews, before drying off at a riverside pub called The Perch. In London however, unless you know what you’re doing or want to tempt fate and cholera, the River Thames is best left well alone. For a while, therefore, it looked as if I was going to be forced to swim in one disappointing leisure centre after another.
‘For me, it’s a solitary pursuit. It’s dreadfully boring for people to hear why others do it’
Until that is, I heard about The Swimmer —a half marathon-length swim and run event, held every autumn through London’s parks, ponds and outdoor pools, inspired by John Cheever’s 1964 short story of the same name (www.above below.sc). I cannot run and so had, and still have, no intention of taking part, but for those tempted, I am reliably informed that there’s a jacuzzi at the end and plenty of bacon butties. Instead, I shamelessly stole The Swimmer’s rosta of locations for myself, including Hampstead Ponds, Parliament Hill Lido, the Serpentine and Brockwell Lido (the latter has an excellent cafe, too).
Denne historien er fra May 05, 2021-utgaven av Country Life UK.
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Denne historien er fra May 05, 2021-utgaven av Country Life UK.
Start din 7-dagers gratis prøveperiode på Magzter GOLD for å få tilgang til tusenvis av utvalgte premiumhistorier og 9000+ magasiner og aviser.
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Kitchen garden cook - Apples
'Sweet and crisp, apples are the epitome of autumn flavour'
The original Mr Rochester
Three classic houses in North Yorkshire have come to the market; the owner of one inspired Charlotte Brontë to write Jane Eyre
Get it write
Desks, once akin to instruments of torture for scribes, have become cherished repositories of memories and secrets. Matthew Dennison charts their evolution
'Sloes hath ben my food'
A possible paint for the Picts and a definite culprit in tea fraud, the cheek-suckingly sour sloe's spiritual home is indisputably in gin, says John Wright
Souvenirs of greatness
FOR many years, some large boxes have been stored and forgotten in the dark recesses of the garage. Unpacked last week, the contents turned out to be pots: some, perhaps, nearing a century old—dense terracotta, of interesting provenance.
Plants for plants' sake
The garden at Hergest Croft, Herefordshire The home of Edward Banks The Banks family is synonymous with an extraordinary collection of trees and shrubs, many of which are presents from distinguished friends, garnered over two centuries. Be prepared to be amazed, says Charles Quest-Ritson
Capturing the castle
Seventy years after Christian Dior’s last fashion show in Scotland, the brand returned under creative director Maria Grazia Chiuri for a celebratory event honouring local craftsmanship, the beauty of the land and the Auld Alliance, explains Kim Parker
Nature's own cathedral
Our tallest native tree 'most lovely of all', the stately beech creates a shaded environment that few plants can survive. John Lewis-Stempel ventures into the enchanted woods
All that money could buy
A new book explores the lost riches of London's grand houses. Its author, Steven Brindle, looks at the residences of plutocrats built by the nouveaux riches of the late-Victorian and Edwardian ages
In with the old
Diamonds are meant to sparkle in candlelight, but many now gather dust in jewellery boxes. To wear them today, we may need to reimagine them, as Hetty Lintell discovers with her grandmother's jewellery
