All summer, I was plagued by the thought of swimming to the Isle of Wight, across a 3½mile stretch of the cold, current-riven Solent, one of the busiest shipping lanes in Europe. People kept asking me why I was doing this, and all summer, I had no good answer. I don’t love swimming, or meeting ferries eye to eye, and I don’t love the Isle of Wight.

John Hughes, a passing acquaintance and one of the people behind Bestival, asked in late spring, by way of small talk, if I was “coming this year”. I ummed and ahhed. I thought, I am too old, grumpy and lazy to camp and too scared of my appetites to come revel in your 30,000-strong, three-day, fancy-dress party in a big field on Britain’s very own White Isle. So instead, I said something like: “Yes, that’d be nice. How’s the wife?”

Then he mentioned that a few people were going to swim there. Swim to Bestival? That was like a whistle that only dogs can hear. I pestered him until it was agreed that I could join the other 11 people swimming to Bestival, largely a group of friends who call themselves Hularama, who take Hula Hoops to festivals and sounded like a bunch of Enid Blyton-esque jolly good sports, who were doing it for charity. In fact, they were anything but. Then there was one of the Radio 1 DJ Jo Whiley’s producers, the music PR Toni Tambourine and me.

Once the initial excitement was over, I started to think about what this swim would actually involve. Regenerated lidos, triathlons and excellent technical wetsuits have all conspired to make the once-popular joy of swimming outdoors sort of hip again, in a nerdy sort of way. But crawling across a cold shipping channel had a distinct lack of glamour, and it didn’t sound easy.

Estimates for how long it would take us ranged from three to five hours, depending on the conditions. Once a week, occasionally twice, I’d do relentless 90-minute swim drills in the rained-on, duck-turd soup of the Serpentine with SwimforTri (the triathlon-training bods). For much of the miserable summer, this was a real toil. If you’ve been smoking – and I had – your lungs protest by shrinking down to the size and elasticity of a crisp packet, leaving you gasping and panicking for air after less than 100 metres.

Swimming in open water, particularly deep water, is genuinely frightening, but then conquering that largely irrational fear is good. When I first started doing long distances in the sea, I was gripped with a recurring nightmare of a huge, snake-like beast circling up out of the dark depths and biting me in two. This induced a panic that raised my heart rate and squeezed the air from my lungs. Only by repeating three-stroke mantras, such as “arm, arm, breathe”, “one, two, three”, or on one occasion, when I was feeling desperately afraid, “God, is, love”, did I calm down.

My main reason for swimming to Bestival was that this challenge was the purest embodiment of my train/cane, spa/bar, healthy hedonistic lifestyle. Sure, it was an exhausting test of fitness, mettle and endurance, but it was followed by a well-deserved rave-up. And, as such, I couldn’t turn it down. If you are the sort of old-fashioned person who thinks that the best things have to be earned, you will understand why the thought of swimming almost four hard miles and then going mental for the weekend makes near-perfect sense.

The weekend before, I went to my ex’s wedding, which was a predictably emotional affair. The last photograph taken of me before I swam the following weekend sees me passed out on a sofa a few hours before some Bridget Jones-style vomiting.

Standing on the beach, the Isle of Wight looked a long way off, but weirdly, I wasn’t nervous. It helped that there were reporters and television crews following us. It was as if we were heading to a distant pole, not a festival. The swim itself was a bit boring, and my shoulders ached, but it was not as hard as a marathon, or even a half-marathon. As I came wading out the other side, all I could think was, I really, really want a beer.

Toni Tambourine and I had become pretty fast training friends over the summer. After pitching our tents and heading to the bar, we were watching the Cuban Brothers on the main stage. Suddenly I spotted all the swimmers up there with them. “We should be up there,” we hollered to security, waving our medals. “Look, look.”

In shock, they let us scramble over, just in time for us, the missing two, to be introduced personally in front of thousands of people, and then we joined the rest as they danced on stage. For a second, I thought to myself: “Right, Kate, be cool, pull some steady moves.” But when the moment came, I just went mental, hurling myself around the stage with a massive grin on my face. It was the revenge of the swimmer nerds, our moment of glory.

Next summer, I’m thinking of biking, swimming and running to Bestival from London. For that, maybe they’ll let me dance on a speaker stack all night.

www.swim2bestival.co.uk

WHERE ELSE TO GO OPEN-WATER SWIMMING

THE THAMES, GLOUCESTERSHIRE

Some of the best swimming stretches are around Riverside Park, near Lechlade. There are deep parts, but the river is slow running, there are few boats to worry about and there is a nice beach for picnics and water access.

EYE BRIDGE ON THE STOUR, NEAR PAMPHILL, DORSET

Take the B3082 northwest out of Wimborne towards Blandford, then the first left after Victoria hospital. The water below the National Trust Roman ford is about waist-high, but under the bridge it gets shallower, which is great for safety. There’s no weed, so it’s a great spot for a first open-water swim.

RIVER ERME, IVYBRIDGE, DEVON

Park under the viaduct and walk into the woods. Don’t swim just below the viaduct, continue 50 yards to find three pools – Lovers Pool, Higher Weir Pool and Trinnaman’s Pool. Some of the water is deep, but the currents all run to safe, shallow water. This is a beautiful spot where you can swim in English nature at its best.

For more information, visit www.river-swimming.co.uk; www.outdoorswimmingsociety.com.

Find coaches at www.britishswimming.org.

London-based swimmers who wish to train can contact www.swimfortri.com

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