After perusing my OS map the previous night we decided to check out a potential spot just North of our local stretch of the M4. We parked up at the end of the road and set off, rucksacks laden with wetsuits. When we eventually found the start of the footpath, and believe me, this took some time, we walked through a farm yard and got a friendly wave from a farmer driving off in his tractor. We headed up the track which zig zagged up the steep hillside. Tracking through the dappled shade of a wooded valley alongside a tumbling babbling stream we kept disturbing sheep from their sleep. We passed a cave with a spring issuing crystal water from its base and carried on up the steep path. Suddenly the view opened up to our right and we saw the large green mirror of the lake below us.
As we swam through the water the cold began to take hold and Owen informed me he had a secret stash of bacon and a camping stove in his rucksack, what more incentive do you need, we raced back across the lake.
We lounged about for a bit and then the urge to do something I had always fancied doing took hold of me, I shed my towel and t-shirt and ran into the water, naked. My first naked swim, why did i take so long to try it? I swam in a rather small arc and climbed out and made a quick check to see if everything was still there, it was, only just. We both agreed this was a spot we would revisit. We walked back down the path but took a wrong turn which ended out as a right turn because we got back to the car much quicker than expected.
Later that day I took the kids down the beach to catch some prawns for tea, we had quite a good haul and I phoned Owen to tell him. He was back at the lack and intended to stay for the night, by himself, with a fillet steak, king prawns and a hip flask full of cask strength laphroiag. I still cant think of a better way to end that day.