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It’s summer, which means we're grabbing every chance there is to hit the beach or dive into a hotel swimming pool. But some travelers are a little more intrepid, plunging into wild, frigid waters for all sorts of reasons. To find out why, Lale chats with writer and wild swimmer Freya Bromley about her recent memoir The Tidal Year and catches up with friend of the podcast and author Dorthe Nors, who lives on a remote part of Denmark’s west coast.
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Lale Arikoglu: Hello. I'm Lale Arikoglu, with another episode of Women Who Travel. Who doesn't look forward to summer swimming? At the beach, in lakes, and outdoor swimming pools. But our guests today are more intrepid, and plunge into frigid temperatures for all manner of reasons. Later, we'll hear from author Dorthe Nors, who lives on a remote part of Denmark's west coast, about her relationship to the water. But first, an author and podcaster who made it her mission to swim in every tidal pool in Britain over the course of a year.
Freya Bromley: Cold water swimming gives you an amazing mental clarity that I had not been able to get through running, mindfulness, meditation, yoga. And certainly I found this thing that was able to deliver me a little bit of peace and quiet from my grief. When you get in a pool, whether that's the sea, a tidal pool, a swimming pool, you can have a splash around, and be a child. And that's amazing, and that's beautiful and all of us need to do that more. Maybe the other thing all of us need to do more is put our heads underwater and scream a little bit as well.
LA: Freya Bromley's, The Tidal Year: A Memoir of Grief, Swimming, and Sisterhood came out in May.
FB: Grief was something I needed to experience, but in a safe place. And then suddenly, I found tidal pools, and became a bit obsess- [laughs] a bit obsessed with them.
LA: Freya's memoir is about sharing her swimming adventures with her friend Miri. And she examines how their friendship deepens because of it.
FB: Uh, when I first met Miri, we met on a swimming holiday, actually. It was a group of 10 complete strangers. And it was honestly, love at first sight, and we just became completely obsessed with each other, and the closest of friends.
LA: Miri has lost her sister. Freya's brother, Tom, died of cancer in 2016 when he was 19.
FB: I guess when I'm swimming, I'm a version of myself that knew my brother Tom, who is playful and quite loud, quite wild, quite silly. I don't get to be that person that knew Tom very much. You know, since he died, I've got a lot older, he hasn't. I'm quite far from him. And something about swimming, I don't know if it's because I'm in nature, or because I'm held, or because I can splash around, that gap, that is just gone somehow.
It felt like my friend Miri was able to love me at a time that I wasn't able to love myself. And our time together, and that journey really transformed my life, through all the cut knees and hypothermia and canceled trains.
LA: Did you really go into it thinking you're going to spend a whole year, or was it a sort of a, a cumulative journey that you just kept going because you couldn't stop?
FB: I think we became a little bit hooked on the idea that it was keeping us going. So, when we found this beautiful tidal pool in Margate, we were like, “What is this? Why is this here? Where are there more? Why do they exist? And how long have they been here?”
LA: Tidal pools are filled with sea water that gets trapped as the tide recedes. There's a huge range of them in the UK. From those built for Victorian bathers, to natural swimming holes encircled by rocks.
FB: So a tidal pool is this perfect harnessing of nature, this architectural forms are being used to swim in something that still feels incredibly beautiful and natural. And also, because they're protected, it means that you can swim in the sea safe from riptides or currents.
LA: Tell me about the wild flowers, and the sea life, and birds, and, and kind of what, what you're seeing as you're swimming, when your head goes up above the surface.
FB: Swimming throughout the year was amazing because it gave me a total, new appreciation for British coastlines in all weather. There was one tidal pool in Cornwall, called, uh, Trevone Bay, or Rocky Beach. And this, the stones of these large gray slabs that kind of slope into the cliffs and beyond the sea was very stormy. There were waves crashing into the cliff side. But we were in this completely still pool. It was so still, it was almost like a saucer of milk. And to be able to feel the intensity of the sea, but to be totally safe was just amazing.
You know, having all this salt water raining down on us. It was just fantastic. And to also be able to immerse ourselves in nature, when it was old and the cliffs were full of amazing, golden, auburn colors, in autumn. Or in spring, where there was this great fuzz of pink sea thrift, and the call the seagulls was just amazing. I think writing the book really help connect me nature, because I became a very good noticer of things. And I'm always suggesting people to start diaries. And often, people say, "Oh, I'm not very creative. Writing isn't for me."
But as soon as you keep a journal, you begin to notice the things around you a lot more. It really connects you with the seasons, and that was a real gift I got from this adventure. Initially, I felt incredibly insecure about the fact that I didn't know that Latin names of plants, or of the birds when they were flying past. But, I tried to let go of that, and embrace what I could see, which was color, texture, where I noticed things. And I think all of the wildlife around our coasts, it's really important that we notice it, and that we care for it. Because the more we care for it, the more we can really look after it. And so, having that engagement is so important.
LA: How do you go about bracing yourself for that first plunge in the cold water? I mean, it must take a bit of, like, mental strength.
FB: Yeah, absolute bravery and courage, which, I think are absolute necessities when going for your first world swim. Someone said to me, and I think this is great advise, "Breathe out as soon as you get in." Because if you inhale too much, it can kind of cause you to feel like you're having a little bit of a panic. The other thing that I think is very helpful is as a kind of general guide, you might want to swim a minute per degree. So, if it's five degrees, you probably want to do about five or six minutes.
And some people like to wear these amazing little socks made of kind of a wetsuit neoprene material to keep your toes warm, because that's the first part of my body that gets cold. And sometimes people also wear gloves. But I personally don't like to wear the gloves, because if I can touch my forefinger and thumb together, it means I'm okay. If my hands begin to seize up, it's definitely time to get out. So that's a good top tip.
LA: Okay. I was, uh, for a minute, I was like, "Why?" Then I was like, "Oh, because-
FB: [laughs]
LA: ... it's to see if they've gone numb." [laughs] As simple as that.
FB: Your fingers are too cold, it's time to get out.
LA: Coming up, Freya visits placing with fascinating backstories, and shares more about her friendship with Miri.
You returned to Wales, and your parent's current house is in Brecon. And I had to look up exactly where it was, because my mom's from Brecon. And my grandparents were in Wales when I was growing up. So I'm, like, very found of that part of the world. And it is so beautiful and wild looking.
FB: It is so wild. And they do such a good job of keeping it that way. People really take care of the nature there, and are really involved and invested in it. You know, you walk along the river and there are signs telling you what kind of flowers you might be seeing. Or saying, you know, "Don't shake this one, because actually it's going to spread all of its seeds everywhere." And I love that as soon as it gets as hot as it is now, I know that back home, everyone will be in the tarns in the top of the mountain.
I don't know if you've b- ever been swimming at Keeper's Pond, but people have a really beautiful relationship with nature there. So, I'm pleased to hear that you like it, too. And I mean, it's the best place for hiking, because Sugar Loaf, the car park's kind of half way up the mountain. So you're 40 minutes to the summit. It's a good, cheat walk.
LA: I have gone on family walks on the Sugar Loaf before. And, for listeners who aren't familiar with Brecon and Wales, the Sugar Loaf is named so because it is this very strange shape. How would you describe it?
FB: Like a little bun on top of the horizon. And it just looks sweet and delicious, and perfectly formed at the top, like a lovely little sugar loaf, I guess.
LA: Swimming in the bend of a river, or taking a hike to a lake that only locals know about it, isn't anything new. But while swimming has become a bit of a buzzword in the UK, especially in the last few years, finding a loch, a stretch of open sea, or a tidal pool, like Freya prefers, is usually guaranteed to take you off the beaten path and allow you to discover someplace new. It also has the benefit of being free. And during the pandemic, it was a means of spending much needed time outdoors.
It's no wonder, then, that all sorts of online communities have cropped up, swapping tips on how to find the best places for a dip and where to find similarly adventurous swimmers.
FB: There was very little that I could find in books or libraries. It was a lot of word-of-mouth stories from intergenerational stories of how people have connected with the landscape around them as they grow up. And that's really beautiful, and why these places are really so important to coastal communities. I spent a lot of time researching this trip on Facebook groups, and on a website called The Outdoor Swimming Society, or Mental Health Swims. And they're fantastic for being able to go with a group of people, so that you have people that can look out for you.
I think, often, when I'm online, especially if I'm on Twitter, I feel like there's a lot of disagreement or there's a lot of hate in the country at the moment. And going to these places, realize that we do want the same things. We want to be connected to the land in which we grew up. We want to have safety for our children. We want to be happy. We want to have shared community. And the world that I think lots of us talk about wanting, really exists in these coastal communities. And that was true in Devon and Wales and Scotland. And everybody made me feel at home at every single journey.
Someone had a flask of coffee or some cake. It doesn't matter if they're a stranger, they'll share it with you after a swim. And I think it can be really hard to get that kind of community. I think that's why so many people love swimming. It's because people are willing to pass you their towel. They're willing to look out for you, if you look a bit cold. And, I suppose, really, that's what's kept me returning to it.
LA: The flask made me think, there's nothing more satisfying than having a hot drink or a snack after you've done some sort of physical activity, or just gotten really, really cold. What were your sort of go-tos? Was there anything that you found that people were always turning to at these tidal pools to snack on? Was it a specific fizzy drink, or a, or a specific cake?
FB: Well, Tunnock's Tea Cakes-
LA: Ah.
FB: ... of course. Also, yeah, Caramacs bars, up flasks full of tea. And people often bring like a Tupperware full of homemade banana bread. When we were in Scotland, we had amazing fish chews from a van that was just around the corner. And it's lovely to be warm and cozy and share these treats. But my top tip is that I have a very small, miniature hot water bottle that on a very cold day manages to somehow stay warm. And it's lovely to be able to have that after a swim, but also press it against the stomach of stranger and offer your hot water bottle for a moment, for a little bit of recharging.
LA: Ah, I love that. You're, you're making it sound so wonderful and cozy.
You mentioned that, um, there's a lot of local history wrapped in them, and some of them have really fascinating stories. Tell me about Witch lake in Scotland, because that's, that one really captured my imagination.
FB: Yeah, it, it so did for me as well, because I think on this journey, we often meet a lot a more women than we do men. But I, I'm not sure why. But I think wild swimming really seems to capture the imagination of lots of groups of women. We were in Scotland, and we were traveling around looking for a little cluster of tidal pools. There was somewhere called Step Rock. And also there was somewhere called Witch Lake, where witches used to be tried. And they would throw women who were accused of being witches into the water with their right thumb tied to their left toe. And of course, if they sank, then they weren't charged. They were free. But obviously, they perished.
But if they floated, then they were a witch, and they'd be burned at the stakes. So this environment where the water was used to try women, is not where people were swimming in the coast and using it as a way to free themselves, or be connected to their own bodies. And the kind of dark symmetry in that, I found really interesting because that histories not so far away. Uh, and the connection to the landscape there, they've got these amazing long, black, jagged rocks that almost look like witch's fingers. There's something quite spooky about it, that I was very moved when we visited. And that was all local stories that people had told about this amazing place.
LA: You've talked so much about how these pools and, and the water, and the act of swimming has felt almost like a way of protecting you, and sort of creating a space where you feel safe, especially in these communal spaces which often have a lot of women. How did it feel to be swimming in water that had been used to harm women? Was that, you, you know, you talked about dark symmetry, but that must have been quite overwhelming.
FB Yeah. I suppose it was. It's amazing that water in different places, obvs- often feels very different. Sometimes water can feel very sticky, or barmy, or salty. Sometimes it feels very cool and crisp. And the water that day when we were in Scotland, on the surface the sun was up so high, that the water appeared almost black, like a very dark well. But then when you were in it, it was completely clear. We could see my arms, my hands, very little color difference. And so, I guess there was a sense of things being slightly different on the surface than they are. And I like that, that water, that the expectations when you get in are always very different. Every swim's kind of different. And often I never really regret one.
LA: As you became better at noticing things and seeing things, and as you wrote, wrote this book, do you feel like, at the end of this journey, and at the end of writing the book, do you think you discovered what you were searching for? Or do you think it just opened up more possibilities?
FB Opened up more possibilities, for sure. I, I thought that I would do grief so well by doing all of this cold water swimming, that I would be fixed by the end of this adventure. And I haven't got to that feeling. I feel better. I have a lot more compassion for myself. I feel like I really appreciate what a brave person I am. And I'm glad that I don't feel fixed, because that would be feeling quite far away from Tom. So I'm okay to be here. But what I set out to do, and the feeling that I have with me now, it may be quite different.
But, I think what I've also come to appreciate is how wonderful it is that when you go for a swim, there are lots of other people that have their own stories that are also trying to be really well. And they're outside whatever time of year, whatever the weather [laughs] making that commitment. And that's really nice, and something that I need to remind myself to do a lot more. When we arrived at the coast, the sea was laid out before us. I stepped forward to peer over the ledge, and there was the pool. A speck among the limestone. From this height, I had a chance to assess the tidal pool's size. It's small and mimics the shape of a nature rock pool. There are two stories for how Dancing Ledge might have got its name. Some say it describes how the water dances over the rocky ledge and changing tides. While others say the pool is the same size as a ballroom. Miri looked over at the last 12 feet of our journey, it was vertical.
“There's now way. I can't go down there.”
I pretended to be confident and took the most accessible route, which was on my bottom. I slid down, fingers gripping the stone as I went. And finally my feet hit the ground with a thud. I turned back to look at the vertiginous landscape, and tried not to think about whether we'd even be able to climb back up. Lifting my arms, I helped stabilize Miri on her way down. Her legs were only slightly shorter than mine, but enough that it made finding places to step and grip more difficult.
I put my hands under her armpits, and pulled her from the cliff to the ground. Finally, it was time to swim. And we clambered into the limpet studded pool. I ran my fingers over their conical. Fingering the grooves where they were rasped to the rocks. I pulled the water me like a blanket. It was warmer submerged in the water, than exposed on the wind-lashed coast. Just meters away the waves tugged at their leash, like a hungry dog. We lingered a while and the tide bounded towards us, ready to swallow the stillness of the pool.
It broke over barnacles and fossils, then showered us with sea water, like a blessing. Dancing Ledge was how I experienced my friendship with Miri, a safe space with an otherwise turbulent times.
LA: Perfect. God, you nailed that reading.
FB: Oh, thank you.
LA: After the break, Dorthe Nors on swimming in Scandinavia on long midsummer days. And she dishes on some nude bathing a writers retreat.
DN: In the short story collection that I wrote, called Wild Swims, there was a woman in Copenhagen who dreams of swimming in a mote, because she longs to go to a true landscape. And she's, uh, walking around Copenhagen finding wild places to swim, but there are people everywhere until she goes to a, a swimming pool, and, uh, finds out that the wildest thing you can swim among is, uh, human beings. Because, they're crazy.
LA: [laughs] Yeah. They're wild.
DN: In Copenhagen, you bathe in the harbor, and the water is clear you can do that. But there are still so many people around, and it's a social thing to do. And wild swimming has a certain kind of solitude about it. Uh, it's like, it's a personal endeavor in a, in a different kind of way.
LA: I didn't make it to Denmark, but I just got back from 10 days in Scandinavia. I was in Norway-
DN: Oh, lovely.
LA: ... and Sweden. And by day two in Norway, I had already experienced the ritual of sauna-
DN: Ah.
LA: ... and dipping myself in the North Sea, and kind of that thing where you kind of switch from the intense heat of the sauna to a cold plunge, and vice versa. Why do you think that in Denmark and in wider Scandinavia people are so drawn to the cold water and submerging themselves in all these different ways?
DN: Mm. I think Scandinavians are drawn to the landscape because it is very vast and big here, and the water is part of that. There's the ocean, but in Finland and Sweden and Norway, there are a lot of streams. And there is all th- a lot of lakes. I mean Finland is called the Land of a Thousand Lakes. So using water and being close to water and emerging yourself in it is a natural, cultural thing here.
LA: Is it solely a summer activity? Or are there brave souls who are doing it in the winter and in the wilder weather?
DN: It's all year round. In Finland, it's, uh, frosty and snowy. And you'll go into the sauna. Interesting thing is a sauna is actually a verb over there. It's not a th- a place. It's, uh, a thing that you do. You sauna. You go into the sauna, you steam, and then you perhaps even saw a hole in the ice and plunge into it. In Denmark we call it Viking Bathe. Uh, we go into the, the ocean or the lakes, uh, in the middle of winter and then run back into the sauna.
LA: How often do you do it?
DN: I have tried doing it, but I'm one of the interesting people who faint if I go from severe heat to, uh, frosty water. I mean, my body can't ta- I just go whoo. I'm gone. [laughs] So I wouldn't do it. Some people do.
LA: I need to know how you discovered that you were one of these people who faints.
DN: I tried. That's what, uh, that's what happened.
LA: [laughs]
DN: Uh, uh, fortunately, I did it a swimming pool. So, um, I didn't drown. [laughs]
LA: But, well, because I, I did a cold plunge and I mean it just knocks the wind out of you. You feel, or at least I did, like I, I couldn't breathe for a second. So, it fee- seems logical to me that you could be led to fainting.
DN: I use the lakes and fjords, uh, all through summer. My favorite place to swim a wild swim is a lake called Hell Lake, or Lake Hell in Denmark. It's 30 meters deep. It's in, um, the most pristine, beautiful landscape with a lot of trees and hills. And when I go swimming there or bathing, there will be kingfishers or an, uh, all kinds of birds that, uh, that sort of surround you. And there are no people. It's just you and this, uh, landscape.
LA: You compared wild swimming to the act of hiking. And I have in my notes that you have used the term "wild hiking" in the context of doing that sort of swimming. What do you mean by that?
DN: The real wild swimmers, which I'm not, will swim long distances. It will be part of their, uh, method or their practice to move c- solely through the landscape, uh, uh, and I think that hiking is a part of it. And you go into the water, and then you hike on through the water. So, it's like moving through a landscape. It also becomes spiritual, I believe, uh, and hiking can also be that. It can be very contemplative. We have a lot of pilgrim roots in Europe, and also in Denmark.
And some of them go through lake, uh, country and lake districts, and, and swimming will be part of that whole being in the landscape, and, and thinking about life, and where do I want to go? And who am I? And, and what is this, this Earth? And how do I belong to it? And stuff like that. All the big questions, right?
LA: Given all the big questions, do you think that this sort of meditative, contemplative act helps you as a writer? Is it something you turn to, to try and understand the world a little bit more, or, I guess, see it in a different way?
DN: I'm absolutely depending on it. Hiking, moving through landscapes, is enormous part of my writing.
LA: Do you think it gives you a sort of clarity?
DN: You get the fresh air into your lungs, it clears your head. You don't have to worry about anything but where you put your foot. Your eyes rest on th- wild life, which is how we were wired from the get-go. So, it calms our brains. And, you know, the, all the solutions that I don't know what to do with in my text, they will usually solve during a hike, because, uh, it's like my brain start, uh, working again. And we have, uh, midsummer here, so the light will go on all through the night.
And in Scandinavia, that is, uh, a very special time for wild swimming. It's like we've become Italians, people skinny-dip, not me anymore. [laughs] But, I mean, when I was younger, you know, people just, it's like, uh, a culture where you just go, you become ecstatic, it's midnight. You, it's still hot, sunny is still up. And, and you go into the lake with your friend.
I was once at, uh, a writer's retreat close to the lake. And the culture occurred among the Danish writers to go skinny-dipping. I mean, uh, drinking and skinny-dipping. And I was sitting in a residency a little further away from them, so I could observe them. They were naked morning, noon, and night. [laughs] And they were walking past my window. I, usually, it's, I've seen the genitalia of the most famous Danish writers, and I don't ... I'm not sure that I can ever erase that from my memory. And I kind of wish I hadn't. [laughs]
LA: And I'm assuming that you are far too classy to share the names of who those authors were on this podcast? [laughs]
DN: I will never share the names [laughs]. Would never.
LA: I went to Japan a few years ago, and obviously, Onsen culture is very prevalent there. And you have to strip off to do it. You can't enter those spaces without being butt-naked. And I needed to do it for the story, but it wasn't easy. It was, uh, it was a mental process to get to the point where I could do it.
DN: Uh, I didn't participate in, in the skinny-dipping. But I did go swimming with them in my bathing suit, because if I was younger I might have done it. But I'm, I've become a little famous writer in Denmark, and I don't want them to remember me like I remember them. [laughs]
LA: [laughs] You had a nice time, so.
DN: Yeah. I had... Well, I don't know. I would rather have been able to remember their faces than all the rest.
LA: [laughs]
DN: [laughs]
LA: Next week, writer, activist, and educator Rachel Cargle talks about her memoir and manifesto, A Renaissance of Our Own. And explains how breaking from our routines can have life changing insights. See you then.
I'm Lale Arikoglu, and you can find me on Instagram @LaleHannah. Our engineers are Jake Lummus and Gabe Quiroga. The show's mixed by Amar Lal. Jude Kampfner from Corporation for Independent Media is our producer. See you next week.