One woman's wild swimming adventures in the west country

Beauteous Bovisand

It’s evening and the sun is low, flooding Bovisand with light reflected from sea, sky and wet sand. The inlet glows softly, guarded by dark rocks pointing out to Cornwall like dragon’s feet. Occasionally, the growl of a boat engine augments the reptilian grumble and crash of the sea. The breakwater appears to hover in a fairytale cloud. We bob around and leap through waves while gulls float nearby in puddles of light. 


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