Peak District/Yorkshire Dales, 5th-12th September

JJ, MG

It's a grey and windy day as JJ and I are united at Stoke railway station to begin our annual pilgrimage to somewhere watery. Our holidays originally began as walking jaunts – in the distant days of yore we covered around 80 miles of Hadrian's Wall – but as the years have passed, the walking has given way to the swimming, until this year the furthest we walk is probably from the car to the tent and since I am prone to parking the car almost inside the tent, this is not far at all. Still we make up for it in SWIMS, brave, fearless and intrepid as always…

Our first stop is in Derbyshire where we are in such haste to get to the water that I get a speeding fine. We head towards a spot highlighted by Daniel Start on the river Dove, below beautiful arching Mapleton bridge. We are incredibly brave, tearing off our clothes in a howling gale and throwing ourselves into the icy murk. I'm taken aback by the cold and the brain freeze, but it's an amazing spot and we are full of self congratulation for starting the holiday as we mean to go on.

Once in Yorkshire though, things take a bit of a down turn as swim spot after swim spot reveals itself to be a roaring, raging torrent of death after unbelievably heavy rains and tempests, even, some might say, hurricanes….

(Catrigg Force)

(Stainforth Force)

(Askrigg Falls)

JJ is not to be entirely defeated by Catrigg Falls on day two, throwing herself into a narrow channel of water above the waterfalls just to claim that she has swum. It's a plunge pool approach, but no less brave for that. I keep a beady eye on a gaggle of walkers on the hillside who are staring open mouthed. We fortify ourselves with cheese and jam sandwiches and resolve to come back in more seasonable climes….

Day Four brings us Hawes Force, an incredible swim below Britain's longest free falling waterfall (or something); famous for this, but for us more celebrated as the site of Kevin Costner's shower in the 1995 classic "Robin Hood; Prince of Thieves". KC clearly disregarding the many signs warning us NOT TO STEP BEHIND THE WATERFALL (in fact in these conditions, I think the cascade would literally knock your head off).We have to choose our moment between groups of gawkers, but when a second of solitude comes, I'm in the water like a flash of lightening. It's utterly terrifying with the roar of water so loud we can't hear each other and black water below us to unfathomable depths. I swim about squawking before braving the underwater which takes the edge off my fear. It's AMAZING, an incredible place. We are exhilarated and breathless and the ringing in our ears continues for some hours.

A post breakfast outing on Day Five - we take a dip below the bridge into Hawes, which is disappointingly shallow, but a swim all the same and then motor happily on over the dales, by now in full holiday mode.

The end of the day brings us our most perfect swim, another cracker from Daniel Start and an incredible campsite in Burnsall to go with it, 10 minutes walk from the river. We wander down to the river Wharfe which is lying wide, still and unbelievably beautiful, with even a little sandy bay to make getting in easy. It could not be a better spot. We plunge in and swim about for what seems like hours.

The next morning we make another pilgrimage here; we're both thrilled to see a kingfisher in a blazing flash of emerald (not caught oncamera unfortunately).

Post swim we are feeling…. slightly chilled…. (!!) so don't swim at Bolton Abbey, though it would be a magical place to dip on a summer's evening.

Neither do we embrace the Turkish Baths at Harrogate…. I make an executive decision, feeling so purified and peaceful from our Wharfe dip that no amount of steaming could improve my sense of well-being. Actually I do slightly regret that now, but the enormous tea we demolished in Betty's Tearooms was fair exchange at the time. Then it's pedal to the metal to make a downward swoop back to the Peak District for our last night. We swing by Chatsworth where the river Derwent feels like an old friend; we swam here last year on our way up to the Lake District; it's incredibly still and peaceful after the quick, youthful sprite of the Wharfe; this river flows majestically in no hurry at all. The ancient duke compared to the rakish count. In the dying light with the Chatsworth deer cropping the opposite bank and the quiet park all around us – this could not be a better conclusion to our adventure.

7 days; one speeding fine, more jam and cheese sandwiches than you could believe possible, several bottles of the Queen of Lemonades, a lot of Kate Bush (Wuthering Heights) one internal tent fire resulting in carbon monoxide poisoning, one hurricane, several frightening pubs, a lot of very happy Steve Coogan quoting, one cave, zero Kevin Costner sightings… and 7 perfect swims. Thanks to JJ for being such a brilliant companion (and very flattering - at one point laughing so hard at one of my jokes that she sprayed a mouthful of porridge all over the tent walls... xxx)