There is something both liberating and empowering about the act of wild swimming. Although like every activity there are numerous expensive bits of equipment that can be bought, ultimately all you really need is a clean and accessible body of water, a towel, and a swimsuit. If you swim somewhere remote enough maybe forget the swimsuit. Wild swimming is an anarchic activity, where the only rules are those of common sense and looking out for fellow swimmers.

If you have never swum in a river, lake or sea before, there are some considerations. First, you need to be able to swim. That might sound obvious, but every year hot weather tempts people to cool off when they cannot swim. Rivers and lakes get deeper in irregular ways, one further step can take you out of your depth. Never get into water unless you are sure you can get out of it again. Coldwater shock is a real danger, especially if you are not used to swimming in cold weather, always enter the water slowly to acclimatise. Make sure you are visible to boaters and kayakers, and ultimately, it is best not to swim alone.

The major concern with wild swimming in the UK, especially England, is the pollution of our waters. The water companies appear to cynically exploit the lack of effective enforcement of rules against discharges, but what can we expect when there are only guidelines rather than laws. However finally there is momentum gathering to safeguard our waters, and there are lobbying resources on the Swim England website. The Rivers Trust has maps showing the state of sewage discharges into rivers.

Worldwide, there are amazing communities of wild swimmers, in the UK there are two Facebook groups I am a member of, the Outdoor Swimming Society, and Wild Swimming Scotland. Both are inspiring and I keep adding to my list of places I would like to go swimming. I dedicated The Man Who Bought the World to the Outdoor Swimming Society, as many of the members’ posts helped to keep me sane during the lockdown.