From ice-cold rock pools to secluded riverbanks, six authors reveal their favourite spots in the UK to dive in and find inspiration. Sat 10 Aug I love our river.
Our stretch of river lies between London and Oxford; it nude student blowjob technically the Thames and not quite the Isis; it is a gentle roar, a rushing calm, a city-country icon that feels deeply personal.
Cross the weir, past the mill house and over the lock, past the weeping willow. Walk on with fields to your right and the river to your joy, fringed by greenery that is mature yet exuberant like many of the locals and tiny beaches where anglers sit, nodding away the dogs who come sniffing mature their bait. From the first, I planned to walk lazy lengths of it, listen to it, lie by it, watch it and without a doubt dip in naked. Yet, I am not the strongest swimmer — not the bravest, or most adventurous, or the most lithe.
My relationship with our river would not prove a questionable midlife athleticism by the covering of great distances. My love of this water is simply this: I go in the water naked the mood takes me: I have dunked myself to chill mature a fraught afternoon and to commune with the dawn.
I have been in with boat-weary friends, my husband, and — ill-advised, of course — alone usually an angler is within shouting distance. To have a regular routine would kill the magic for me. The impulse, joy the water, must be wild and free.