Hotel Hit Squad: Take a swim on the wild side – floating on your back really is the best way to see the Wye Valley
Are you feeling tired yet?” My teacher, Edward, chuckled as he glided past with Olympian elegance. As water splashed from the elbows of his front crawl and spattered in my face, I clamped my mouth shut into a wincing grin. I tried to look like I was nonchalantly treading water. My legs fluttered and flailed wearily below the surface.
Then, a lifeline: a clump of weed-woven land jutting out of the bank. “Is it possible to take a quick time out?” I asked, motioning towards it as casually as possible.
“If you want a break just lie on your back; the wetsuit will keep you buoyant,” said Edward.
This changed everything. The river current carried me like a slow, slip-slopping conveyor belt through a beautiful landscape. Salt marshes were fur-lined with foxtails; purple orchids lit up the shadowy clusters of ash trees like neon lights; the river rolled for miles, a cold shade of indigo.
I was taking part in a guided wild swim on the Wye as part of a weekend break package at Tudor Farmhouse in the Forest of Dean. Call it heatwave madness. Also, wild swimming is one of these really-not-new novelties millennials go crazy for, like knitting and Fleetwood Mac.
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For a person who can swim, I am really not a swimmer. As a child, I briefly harboured ambitions to be a world champion. But after my PE teacher presented me, aged eight, with a much-coveted rainbow-stitched 1,000m badge to sew on my swimsuit, I decided to retire from competitive swimming and turned to gymnastics. My adult years have been limited to lolling in hotel pools and snorkelling in tropic shallows. But something about the scorching summer convinced me I could do a two-and-a-half-mile outdoor swim.
Of course, after weeks of hot weather, on the day of the wild swim, it rained. But the lashing showers turned out to be refreshing as I floated lazily on my back in heatwave-warmed water. Thunder clapped and lightning illuminated the clouds like Blackpool Tower bulbs. This created wonderful drama. And flanked by my two instructors, I felt perfectly safe.
“Once you get into wild swimming, laps in the pool make you feel like a caged animal,” said Edward before immersing his head in the water with boyish glee. The sense of freedom and being at one with nature is one of the big draws of wild swimming. It was thrilling briefly to share the habitat of swallows ricocheting off the surface in search of insects, and the river’s collection of ducks and swans.
By the end of the swim, I was glowing, which was useful for the rain-sodden two-and-a-half mile walk back up the bank to the car.
Tudor Farmhouse’s wild swimming experiences include a gourmet picnic in a wicker basket, but given the turn in the weather I went back to my room for a hot shower and then ate my smoked salmon and caviar and sausage rolls while sitting on the bedroom floor.
The sleeping quarters at the 20-room converted farmhouse lean towards cosy, creaking luxury. Think knobbly black exposed beams, “made in Britain” wool throws, kooky, hen-print curtains and original honey-coloured stone feature walls. Roll-top baths come with a large bottle of locally-made bubble bath, perfect for post-swim aches and pains.
Tudor Farmhouse is a kick-off-your-shoes kind of place, with wellies in the hallway, blankets to borrow in a basket by reception, and generally few people around. I spent the afternoon sitting with a novel in the lounge, with its fireplace big enough to park a Mini in, cosy low ceilings, and quirky touches that included a portrait of a dog in an admiral’s outfit.
Come evening, go for the ￡60 a head tasting menu in the AA Rosette restaurant, which has a homespun, country kitchen feel, down to the rolls served in battered silver Hovis tins. Head chef Rob Cox sources most of his produce from within a 20-mile (32km) radius, from West Country stone bass strewn with juicy mussels and crackling with samphire, to crispy-skinned chicken from a farm down the road served with spring vegetables in sprightly colours and a lusty tarragon consommé. The wine flight (￡30 each) has some unusual touches, from a crisp but waxy sweet Hungarian wine to an English wine prickling with the flavours of hedgerow and elderflower.
Naturally, the day after the swim, the sun came out. I consoled myself enjoying Tudor Farmhouse’s small garden, which crackles with colour and overlooks white ponies grazing on a hill. I headed home thrilled with my new hobby, which I will certainly be pursuing further, albeit with the lazy person’s hack: a very buoyant wetsuit.
Two-night guided breaks from ￡700 (two sharing – ￡350pp) including one half-day guided swim, one dinner and one picnic
