READY, SET, DIVE

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