Water temp: perfect
It's a cloudy and slightly chilly, pollen filled July morning. I pedal from Primrose Hill to the ponds on Hampstead Heath.
There's a serious amount of chatter in the changing rooms, someone has published a book, no it's an exhibition, I kayaked up a mountain, I've just returned from the south of France, her brownies were divine. Put ya pants on mate.
Now, the only question on my mind as I saunter along the springboard is why don't I swim here more often in the mornings? It's beautiful, ducks swim under me with their chicks in tow, the pond is virtually empty, sun is now shining.
Delicious and delightful. Need I say more?