Waterlog, by Roger Deakin (Vintage). This book was an inspiration for me, and proved a delicious escape for a city-bound country boy. Waterlog is exactly that, a collection of diary entries concerned with swims undertaken by Deakin, from rivers to open-air lidos, to seas and lochs and sea lochs, to his moat.
He writes with such delight at the feel of water that is not chlorinated, of the shrill tremor of elation at plunging into cold water of being alone in the Fairy Pools or riding river rapids with a choice few friends, that acts like a siren’s song, though in this case luring you away from the rocks and in to deeper water. Continue reading