{"id":888008,"date":"2026-10-05T14:29:41","date_gmt":"2026-10-05T13:29:41","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.trafalgar.com\/real-word\/?p=888008"},"modified":"2026-10-05T14:30:09","modified_gmt":"2026-10-05T13:30:09","slug":"wild-swimming-in-scotland","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.trafalgar.com\/real-word\/wild-swimming-in-scotland\/","title":{"rendered":"Cold Calling: The Magic of Wild Swimming in Scotland"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

In late May, I went on a Scotland trip spanning the Highlands, Fife, and the Hebrides. I had never been to the Scottish countryside before; I’d only visited big cities like Edinburgh and Glasgow. This time, I ached for sweeping vistas, epic gorges, and the kind of landscapes that remind you of how small and human you are. As well as this, I wanted to wild swim in all kinds of wonderful bodies of water. From numbingly cold lochs to the baby-blue sea in the Hebrides, I felt so free and at peace just from dipping into Scotland’s invitingly cold waters. I also noticed a culture as I traveled around. At a lot of the beaches there was a sauna overlooking the water, run by a friendly Scot handing out wool felt hats and slippers. People were going from the hot room to cold water, and back again, before drying off with a changing robe. It looked like something akin to Scandinavian sauna culture, and I was instantly hooked. But having only just dipped my toe in the wild swimming world, I wanted to find out more about the culture, the places and the people that make it. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Cue stage right: Trafalgar Travel Director Fiona Harrison, a Scotland native and lifelong wild swimmer. I sat down to talk with her during a little break in her busy summer touring schedule, and we discussed her childhood memories, favourite lochs and Scotland’s wild swimming culture. In a country which can have 141 frost days per year, how did the act of swimming its alpine lakes and wild sea waters come about?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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\"Sunset<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
\"Fiona<\/figure>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

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“Just run straight from the car, fully clothed, straight into the sea”<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

“I’ve been wild swimming in Scotland since I was a child. We spent all of our summers in a caravan up in the Highlands next to the North Sea. And I remember we used to literally drive up to the caravan and my brother and sister would jump out of the car and just run straight from the car, fully clothed, straight into the sea. And it was something we did every summer.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“As an adult, a lot of my friends really enjoy wild swimming and my parents actually still live up by the North Sea in the Highlands and they will go all year round, no wetsuit, three times a week into the North Sea to go swimming, and they absolutely love it. So it’s just a really great way to just get some peace and reconnect with nature when you’re in Scotland.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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“It has become much more popular”<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Wild swimming has recently exploded in popularity<\/a> across the UK and beyond, with three times as many people enjoying it since before Covid. What was once a niche activity has become mainstream, with dedicated communities, apps, and even purpose-built facilities. Though, there’s a misconception that wild swimming only thrives in warm climates with tropical waters; places where the sun does the work. But Scotland’s water culture, like Scandinavia, proves something different. Cold is not a barrier, it’s part of the joy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"Woman<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

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“It’s been a thing since I was a child. I mean, we used to go to Loch Lomond at the weekend or we would go up to the North Sea, or to St. Andrews. And I think there’s a misconception where, because Scotland is a colder country, wild swimming isn’t normal. We’re not in Asia, we’re not in Australia, where you’ve got these hot beaches and tropical temperatures. But we like to go in the water as well, and we do get nice warm weather too. But it has become much more popular. There’s a lot of places in different lochs in Scotland now that offer saunas and hot tubs and things. You go for the cold dip in the loch and then come out and get in the sauna, you get in the hot tub, and then go back and forth because it’s meant to be really good for your blood pressure and your nervous system.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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“You kind of relax into it”<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

I’m looking out over Loch Lomond, its still waters reflecting the nearby cascading mountains back at me. My toes are curled over the edge of a long jetty. Sweat drips down my head, staining the jetty with darkened dots. I’ve just stepped out of a wooden sauna, and I’m about to ease myself into the water. The first bit, when you just enter the water, is everything. That’s where most people hesitate. Your body enters water that might be ten degrees, your breath quickens, and every nerve ending sends a single message: this is not comfortable. When I get in, even though I was just gasping from the heat of the sauna, I now gasp to catch my breath from the cold. Fiona says to just wait it out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“It’s like that first 30 seconds as you’re going in, to get to that waist height and you’re going, oh, this is kind of cold. And then I do like normally a countdown for myself and like to do a duck down because as soon as it gets like around my chest, I feel like I just kind of lose my breath for a second. And then once that kind of 10 seconds has passed, like you kind of relax into it and it actually feels really nice to be in the water. Refreshing.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"Man<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

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“You can see straight through to the bottom”<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

There’s a difference between swimming in the sea and swimming in a loch, and it’s not just the temperature or salinity, but the entire sensory landscape. As well as Loch Lomond, I swam in the baby blue waters of the Hebrides. A loch is glass-still; the sea is chaos. A loch is transparent; the sea is opaque. Each has its own character, its own logic.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“If you are swimming on the coast, going off a sandy beach and feeling the waves has a different feeling. And then if you’re going in on a loch, it’s just so clear and calm because the water is so fresh. You can just look and you can see straight through all the way to the bottom. Whereas if you’re out in the water in the sea, you’ve got the waves and that kind of more salty feel to it.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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\"Castle<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
\"A<\/figure>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

You may also like: Scotland, Unpacked With Travel Director Fiona<\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I ask Fiona about where else she’s swum\u2014she travels constantly for her work\u2014but she makes it clear that the Scottish waters hold something distinct.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“I just find the water in Scotland is really clean, really fresh, it’s a really nice place to go in, a way of reconnecting with nature as well. Because I mean, anywhere I go around the world, I always try and at least put my feet in the water to connect with that country. And it’s something I always say to groups as well like when we stop at Loch Ness or when we stop at St. Andrews. I’m like, go and stick your feet in the water and feel what it’s like to be in the North Sea. Because it is like a really good way of connecting to nature.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“There’s a dopamine hit you get”<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

“There’s a health thing to it too, it’s really good for your blood pressure, for your nervous system. And I think there’s a dopamine hit you get when you’re in that cold water that really just once it hits, because it’s such a shock to the system, it releases everything from you and just all you can focus on is the here and now and the present.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The science behind this says that cold water immersion triggers a parasympathetic nervous system response, flooding your body with endorphins. But knowing the mechanism doesn’t always prepare you for the feeling.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Loch Lomond’s the one with the song”<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

The famous lochs\u2014Ness, Lomond, Morar\u2014dominate the tourist imagination. Ness has its monster; Lomond has its ballad; the others have their histories and their names on maps.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"Loch<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

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“Loch Lomond’s really close to me, so we used to spend a lot of time there. We always describe it as: Loch Ness is the one with the monster, Loch Lomond’s the one with the song. So Loch Lomond, there’s lots of little kind of small bays and like beaches and things where you can easily go down and have a wild swim. Loch Venachar is really popular for a small walk near me as well. So that’s a really good one to go and have a swim. There’s a lot of coastal places that are really good as well. So St. Andrews is on the North Sea and there’s lots of really good spots there. And there’s a natural swimming pool area at St. Andrews too. My parents are in a small village called Portmahomack. They’ve got a little beach, a little bay just where they live. So that’s somewhere I love to go in.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“It looks like you’re on a tropical island”<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

“But down the West Coast, kind of anywhere on the Hebridean Islands, anywhere down the West Coast, the scenery is so beautiful. It’s white sand beaches. And if you look at photos, it does look like you’re on a tropical island anywhere down that West Coast.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This brings back memories of when I took the ferry from Oban to the Isle of Mull, and found myself on beaches of pure white sand, looking out at turquoise waters that could be in a Caribbean travel catalog. Sitting with me, poking out of the sand was machair: a tufty coastal grassland and one of Europe’s most vulnerable and precious habitats. I get up and walk to the water. Though it looks like the Caribbean, it certainly doesn’t feel like it. The cold water is both shocking and soothing, and I swim in pure glee before quickly rushing out to warm back up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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\"Hebridean<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
\"Hebridean<\/figure>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

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“You’re going to get wet anyway”<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Weather is the excuse most people use to avoid swimming. Rain, cold air, wind\u2014these are reasons to stay dry. But Fiona has a different philosophy: if you’re entering water anyway, weather becomes irrelevant. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

“The good times to go is obviously when it’s really sunny and really warm, and you go in and it’s really nice and refreshing. But I’ve always thought it really funny when people say they don’t want to swim when it’s raining, because you’re going to get wet anyway. And quite often there’s less of that shock when you’re going into the water when it’s raining, or when the temperature’s a bit colder because you are closer to that temperature. So you can kind of swim in just about any weather, but I mean, like I said, I prefer going in the summer. My parents go all year round, but they raised a wimp. And when it’s really cold in January time, it would take a lot more to get me into the water.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Just you go in, the cold water takes your breath away”<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
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\"Fiona<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
\"Fiona<\/figure>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

I ask Fiona if many of her guests on tour swim in Scotland. “Some of them do, yeah. Like when we stop on the Isle of Skye for the night, or I know lots of guests will go and paddle their feet when we’re in St. Andrews or at Loch Lomond or Loch Ness. And some do go all in and go right in for a swim, which it’s great because it’s such a good experience for them and the ones that do always really, really love it.”

I would recommend to any of those potential guests reading this right now: take the plunge, and swim in the water you find in Scotland. Along with the dramatic scenery, the unique Highland flora, and the old, enchanted forests; swimming was what grounded me to everything, and made me drink in the experience to its fullest. <\/p>\n\n\n

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\n <\/i><\/span>\n Go on tour<\/span>\n <\/div>\n
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Best of Scotland<\/p>\n\t\t\t
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