There is this place where the water is shallow and cold, having flowed off the mountainside, where it pauses in a weir before flowing onwards towards Windermere. I swam here early one Monday morning, with not a soul around, and I had to hop over a gate to get here and back out again. Having been in, and coming out cold and feeling alive I trot back to the car, shaking my head at how lucky I am to do some of these things.
Tom Hall: travel, London, other things 