Buvette Bains des Pâquis | Geneva Stop Over

From wild swimming in Surrey's Rivers to diving off the concrete boards of the Bains des Pâquis into Lake Geneva.  

What's really great, is when you get off a stuffy plane, whizz through customs - hand luggage as your only luggage - and you're swimming in the city within the hour. 
That is really great.

The baths were built of wood in 1872, but they were demolished & upgraded to the smooth lines of concrete in 1932. 
In the 80's there were plans to demolish the baths but luckily outcry came and plans were scrapped.
Since its renovation, its well-being core (i.e massage, sauna, tai-chi, yoga, hammam) has moulded into a cosmopolitan hub of open air concerts, after work drinks on the terrace & sun bathing escapies of the city's grind. 

The food is seasonal, fresh and much of the produce is homegrown on the site and is watered by the spray from the outside shower & lake.

It's a common choice for young, old, students, mothers and bankers. And I think part of its charm stems from the locals and its diversity of customers. 
Buvette Bains des Pâquis is open 365 days a year and is wonderfully cheap & delicious, in what is an eye-wateringly expensive European city.

If you're ever in the city & looking for a relatively cheap bar with panoramic views of Geneva (and even Mont Blanc on a clear day) then I really recommend a visit.  

Refuelled and refreshed, we bundled back into the car, fiddled about with Swiss radio & got comfy for the next leg of the journey. 

Wild Swimming | Surrey

A beach in Surrey? 

Yup.

There's two actually. Well, two ponds. (Stay with me here)

There's the Great Pond & then there's the Little Pond. Always go to the Great pond, the Little Pond is exclusive to fishers - you don't want to be swimming with all that fish bait.  

Once you've made it, walk straight past the first 'beach', up 'n' over the clearing on the common and head down to the second 'beach'. It's always quieter there.

Bring a picnic, a good book & a rubber ring for floating about. 

Satisfied we'd got our last dose of summer sun, we headed down the road to near-by Tilford for another swim & to refuel at the Barley Mow.

When I was a little girl we'd tube down the river & let our feet slip away from the bottom as the river gradually got deeper. We'd jump from the high banks of the Wey & swing from the tyre dangling from the old willow tree. 
When the hunger pangs of swimming settled in, we'd all huddle around a camp stove in fluffy towels and cook fish fingers for tea. 
Those days are sadly over. There's a river warrant now who make sures people, ponies, dogs, cats, whoever, stay between the bridge & the weir.

It's not all bad news though, fish finger sandwiches got upgraded to pub grub & pints. 
We sat outside looking over the cricket green as the smalls ran through the giant sprinkler. 
Oh, Summer, I'm going to miss you!