The wintry swim in Bergen harbour was a moment that would change the course of my life forever. Standing there, wrapped up in layers, trying to persuade myself to join my friends in the icy water, I couldn't have imagined just how transformative it would be. The cold seeped into my bones as I waded in, gasping for breath, but only for a minute – and then we were out, our skin buzzing with an electric sense of alive.
As I warmed up over hot chocolate with my friends, the buzz from the experience spread like wildfire. More women arrived, their hair wet from the sea, eager to swap stories about swimming and its effect on them. It was as if a switch had been flipped inside me – a yearning to do something that would pick me up, shake off the burnout I'd developed. In that moment, I decided to commit to spending 12 months swimming in the Nordic countries.
I knew it wouldn't be easy. Packing my kit for every destination was straightforward, but finding spots to swim required research and serendipity. Social media played a crucial role – reaching out to fellow Scandinavian swimmers and scouring online forums to find hidden gems. I'd ask people about places with saunas, natural spas, or simple stretches of beach where others regularly swam.
My journey took me from the chilly harbour pool in Oslo to the icy waters of Greenland. In Uunartoq, a tiny island in southern Greenland, I found myself swimming among icebergs the size of three-bedroom houses. There was something primal about that experience – it felt like my feet had finally hit solid ground after months of searching for meaning.
This year has been an odyssey not just of water but also self-discovery. It's shown me that doing things that make us feel alive, surrounded by people who share those same feelings, is incredibly exhilarating. Nature, when experienced regularly, starts to seep into our very being – it makes you feel part of something greater.
When I started this journey, feeling burnt out and lost in a sea of uncertainty about my future here, I couldn't have imagined the sense of purpose that would unfold. It's taught me to trust in myself and take leaps of faith. As I stood on that Greenland beach, watching the icebergs float by like dark sentinels, I felt – for the first time in ages – truly alive.
A year has passed since that wintry swim in Bergen. A year of searching, discovering, and slowly finding my place in this part of the world. It's been a journey that has taught me so much about resilience, about taking care of myself, and about embracing the beauty of uncertainty. And as I look to the future, I know that no matter where life takes me next, I'll always have saltwater in my veins – a constant reminder of this year spent laying my head in water.
As I warmed up over hot chocolate with my friends, the buzz from the experience spread like wildfire. More women arrived, their hair wet from the sea, eager to swap stories about swimming and its effect on them. It was as if a switch had been flipped inside me – a yearning to do something that would pick me up, shake off the burnout I'd developed. In that moment, I decided to commit to spending 12 months swimming in the Nordic countries.
I knew it wouldn't be easy. Packing my kit for every destination was straightforward, but finding spots to swim required research and serendipity. Social media played a crucial role – reaching out to fellow Scandinavian swimmers and scouring online forums to find hidden gems. I'd ask people about places with saunas, natural spas, or simple stretches of beach where others regularly swam.
My journey took me from the chilly harbour pool in Oslo to the icy waters of Greenland. In Uunartoq, a tiny island in southern Greenland, I found myself swimming among icebergs the size of three-bedroom houses. There was something primal about that experience – it felt like my feet had finally hit solid ground after months of searching for meaning.
This year has been an odyssey not just of water but also self-discovery. It's shown me that doing things that make us feel alive, surrounded by people who share those same feelings, is incredibly exhilarating. Nature, when experienced regularly, starts to seep into our very being – it makes you feel part of something greater.
When I started this journey, feeling burnt out and lost in a sea of uncertainty about my future here, I couldn't have imagined the sense of purpose that would unfold. It's taught me to trust in myself and take leaps of faith. As I stood on that Greenland beach, watching the icebergs float by like dark sentinels, I felt – for the first time in ages – truly alive.
A year has passed since that wintry swim in Bergen. A year of searching, discovering, and slowly finding my place in this part of the world. It's been a journey that has taught me so much about resilience, about taking care of myself, and about embracing the beauty of uncertainty. And as I look to the future, I know that no matter where life takes me next, I'll always have saltwater in my veins – a constant reminder of this year spent laying my head in water.