My bones have never hurt so intensely and immediately as they did when I plunged myself into the ocean off the Ayrshire coastline. It was early evening, the sun casting a golden glow over the water, and I could see the Tunnocks teacake outline of Ailsa Craig on the horizon, an island thatâs in sight of so many of the beaches in this wildly underrated part of Scotland. Iâd stripped off in front of fifteen or so women, put my water shoes on, and followed a group of strangers into the sea.Â
The benefits of cold-water swimming
Many extoll the virtues of cold-water swimming. Itâs good for your circulation, immune system, inflammation and metabolism apparently. And the endorphins and adrenaline do wonders for the brain, too. But for me, the core benefit isnât about my physical health â itâs the social aspect, especially when Iâm travelling solo.Â
After several weeks of travelling alone with my dog in the Scottish countryside, camping alone, eating alone, sleeping alone and only making passing, surface level conversation with strangers in the washing up area, the loneliness had crept in like a tide returning to shore, and I couldnât shake it. There are many upsides to solo travel: you can do what you want when you want, eat whatever you like, sleep in, get up early. But when you travel solo often and for long periods of time, things can get weird inside your own head.
A new way to make friends
And so it was that â thanks to one stiflingly quiet evening on my campsite, during which I came across an instagram page called Swim the Lochs â I found myself scoffing deep-fried fish in the local chippy after that bracing dip in Girvan as part of the monthly âDips & Chipsâ meet-up. We shared pots of tea and stories about swimming in wild places, and we connected over everything from menopause to men, and the grief of losing parents. It was the tonic I needed after a few weeks of glorious but occasionally difficult isolation, and it unearthed a new way of meeting people on my travels.Â
Since then, Iâve made fast friends in cold water all over the UK and even in Europe. In Shetland, while house-sitting for a friend, I met Helen and Rhonda on a local Facebook group for regular sea dips off a white-sand beach on the island of Whalsay. Afternoons were spent swimming while our dogs raced about on shore, then weâd sit on the sand with a flask of tea and a biscuit each and put the world to rights â occasionally joined by a curious otter in the bay.Â
It works almost anywhere in the world
On a recent trip to Switzerland, I jumped into strikingly turquoise waters with a pair of strangers I met on a pebbly riverside beach to experience the âAare floatâ. This summertime tradition of flinging yourself into the rushing waters of the River Aare in Bern is not to be missed â thousands of locals and visitors jump in at various points along the waterway and let the fast currents take them downstream. But as a solo traveller, going it alone seemed risky, as currents can reach up to 7mph, and knowing where and how to exit the water is an essential skill.Â
Determined not to miss out, I took my tow float packed with bank cards, a small towel and my hotel room key, and asked a pair of women standing knee-deep in the water if theyâd let me swim with them. We threw ourselves into the water in unison, and as we were carried along by the currents, we talked about our work, life in the Swiss city, and the joys of wild swimming. We may not be lifelong friends now, but we were friends for an hour â a brief moment in time, and thatâs exactly what some of us need when adventuring solo. From now on, I travel by one core motto: when in doubt, dip.Â
Where to stay for a wild swim adventure in the UK
If you donât fancy going all-in on the wild part of this cold-water swimming trend, there are several spectacular places to stay where you can find a floating community as well as a fluffy bathrobe to warm up in afterwards.Â
Blow the budget, West Sussex
If youâre new to the idea of wild swimming and want to meet others curious about the concept, the Wild Swimming Weekends at South Lodge are an excellent introduction. Youâll get wetsuits, tow floats and dry robes included as well as swim coaching from âDip Advisorâ Ella Foot. I loved the spa here, which has its own natural swimming pool filled with aquatic plants. There are also thermal pools, saunas and hot tubs for warming up after your lake dip. The Wild Swimming Weekend package costs from ÂŁ645 per room.Â
Swim with swans, Worcestershire
I think about returning to the completely divine glamping site of Wagtail Retreat on a near-weekly basis thanks to its vineyard views, Â mineral-rich swimming pond, and waterside sauna. There are three luxurious little cabins here, with outdoor bath tubs and enclosed decks, and you might find youâre sharing the pond with a pair of swans as well as your human neighbours. Cabins from ÂŁ200 per night.
Bask in the moonlight, Cumbria
Set on the shores of Ullswater in the Lake District, Another Place is a contemporary hotel with its very own swimming guide. There are full moon night swims (wetsuits provided), cross lake swims for the ultra fit, and waterfall swims for the truly adventurous. There are hotel rooms, but I loved the shepherdâs huts in the garden, which have a beautiful copper tub to relax in after your cold dips â just donât forget to run it before you head into the lake so itâs ready to warm you up on return. Rooms from ÂŁ197 per night.
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