From Shingle Street to the Sea - A Day of Wild Swimming

There are some days that just beg you to go exploring. The sun was already shining in a cloud-flecked blue sky when we packed our swimming bags, loaded the car, and set off. The plan was loose — the best kind of plan — but Felixstowe was our rough destination. Somewhere along the way, we’d follow the whispers of a hidden lagoon, and see what else the Suffolk coast and rivers had in store for us.

The Mystery of Shingle Street Lagoon

Our first target was Shingle Street, a place with a name as wild as the stories about it. The drive in was beautiful — long stretches of quiet lanes, the odd cottage here and there, and that salty tang in the air that means the sea is near. We parked up, fully expecting to be greeted by this mysterious lagoon we’d heard about. But instead, all we found was a long sweep of shingle beach, dotted with patches of sea kale, and almost completely deserted.

The only other souls in sight were two fishermen patiently watching their lines and a pair of sunbathers stretched out in the mid-morning warmth. We wandered down to the water’s edge, scanning the horizon for clues. The tide lapped gently at the shore; the air was so still we could hear the gulls from far away.

In the hope of a clue, I decided to go over and ask the sunbathers if they knew where the lagoon was hiding. They were wonderfully friendly — not only did they give us a rough idea of where to look, but upon hearing where we were heading on the rest of our journey, they suggested we take the £5 ferry to Felixstowe from the nearby jetty. That would have to be a trip for another day.

Back in the car, we edged closer to where they’d directed us, then set out on foot again. Fifteen minutes of walking later — still nothing. A couple of dog walkers passed us and, after a quick chat, we discovered we’d already gone past it. Typical!

We retraced our steps, this time following their more precise directions. Over a small rise we went and then — there it was.

Shingle Street Lagoon

A perfectly hidden lagoon, left behind by the retreating sea. Its steep banks of smooth shingle shielded it from view, making it feel like we’d stumbled upon our own private paradise. A small white house perched at one edge, watching over the scene. Above, the sky was brilliant blue with soft white clouds drifting lazily across. Not a sound could be heard - it was like time had stood still.

We lingered a moment just taking in the scene before us, then changed quickly and waded in. The water was crystal clear and surprisingly warm — a reward for our determined hunt. As we swam, the occasional mast of a sailboat slid past just out of sight on the other side of the ridge, a reminder that the sea was never far away. The place had a rare tranquility, the kind that makes you want to stay for hours. But, as always, the road and another swim spot was calling.

Lunch and a Swoosh at Walderingfield

Our next stop was the riverside village of Walderingfield, perched on the banks of the River Deben. We’d heard about The Maybush pub and its enviable position right by the water, and arriving just before lunchtime was perfect timing.

We took a table on the terrace and ordered a light lunch, enjoying the easy pace of the place. The food was fresh, the service warm, and the view — well, it was the sort of view that could make you cancel the rest of your plans just to sit and watch the river for the rest of the day.

After eating, we wandered down to the designated swimming area. Families were out in force — children paddling in the shallows, others dangling crab lines into the water, and a couple of stronger swimmers cutting across the river against the current. We soon discovered that the flow here was stronger than it looked; swimming on the spot was almost comical. So, instead, we waded up the river a little way and let the current carry us back in a joyful “swoosh.” We did it again and again, laughing the whole way.

Lunch And A Swoosh

A Choppy Dip in Felixstowe

From Walderingfield, we drove on into Felixstowe for a little wander around the town. Shops, seaside smells, and that ever-present hint of salt in the breeze gave it a lively, holiday feel. But the water was calling again and it wasn’t too long before we had a tea in hand and were sat on the sand beside a rather choppy sea. This time is was bobbing with the occasional wave jump thrown in. With the day slipping by and more swim spots to explore we were back on our way.

Hit and Miss: Sproughton and Bramford

Our final swims of the day were to be wild cards — places spotted on the map but not researched in advance.

Sproughton came first. From the bridge, we caught a glimpse of the river, but our excitement dimmed quickly — the surface was thick with weeds. We parked anyway and walked down to the stone steps leading into the water, just in case, but no, it was clear a dip wasn’t going to be possible. Back to the car :(

Bramford, however, was a different story. As we crossed the bridge into the village, we spotted swimmers below — always a good sign. We parked up and strolled the short distance across the park to the riverbank, where a lively group of kids were jumping straight off the bridge into the water. A friendly lady with two dogs stopped to chat, one of them a blind but energetic swimmer who bounded in and out of the shallows as if nothing could slow him down.

We joined the swimmers, wading in knee-deep before suddenly finding ourselves out of our depth near the bridge. We swam back and forth for a while, keeping a watchful eye out for incoming jumpers, enjoying the easy friendliness that seems to happen naturally around a swimming spot.

Cake at Needham Lake (Finally!)

By now, it was late afternoon — and somehow we’d made it this far without cake!! A crisis, really. So, on the way home, we stopped at Needham Lake for the essential tea-and-cake combination. That first bite of something sweet felt like the perfect punctuation mark on the day.

The Verdict

Back home, after a quick supper, we looked back on the day’s adventures. Every swim had its charm, from the swooshing fun of Walderingfield to the playful waves of Felixstowe. But there was no contest:

Shingle Street Lagoon was the swim of the day

Hidden, serene, and all the more magical for the effort it took to find it — it was the kind of place you remember for years to come.