In 1996 Roger Deakin set out to swim the British Isles. He swam in the sea, in rivers, in streams, tarns, lakes, lochs, ponds, lidos, swimming pools, fens, dykes, moats, aqueducts, waterfalls, flooded quarries and even canals. This funny, wise, delightful book documents his journey. It inspired a movement, creating wild swimmers out of many readers.

Detained by water bailiffs in Winchester, intercepted in the Fowey estuary by coastguards, mistaken for a suicide on Camber sands, confronting the Corryvreckan whirlpool in the Hebrides, Deakin discovered just how much of an outsider the native swimmer is to his landlocked, fully-dressed fellow citizens.

Waterlog is a personal journey, a bold assertion of the native swimmer’s right to roam, and an unforgettable celebration of the magic of water.

INTRODUCED BY OLIVIA LAING

‘A delicious, cleansing, funny, wise and joyful book, so wonderfully full of energy and life’ Jane Gardam’

‘Roger Deakin is the perfect companion for an invigorating armchair swim’ Daily Telegraph

‘Gentle, straight, honest, inquisitive, funny, melancholic’ Spectator

‘A lovely book that is a poignant epitaph to a remarkable individual’ Amazon Review
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For the last six years of his life, Roger Deakin kept notebooks. In them, he wrote his daily thoughts, impressions, feelings and observations about and around his Suffolk home, Walnut Tree Farm. Collected here are the very best of these writings, capturing his extraordinary, restless curiosity about nature as well as his impressions of our changing world.

Perfect for fans of Robert Macfarlane and Colin Tudge, this is a book that fills readers with a desire to explore the world around them.
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‘A secular saint’ The Times

‘Marvellous, wonderful, lovely, remarkable . . . to be read and reread and treasured’ Elizabeth Jane Howard, Daily Mail

‘Very funny, sharp-eyed. To look at the world through Deakin’s eyes was to see somewhere that was more wonderful than it often appears’ Sunday Telegraph

‘Thoughtful and invigorating, full of humour, timeless . . . will take its place among the classics of Nature diaries . . . to be read alongside Frances Kilvert, Gilbert White, and Dorothy Wordsworth’ Mail on Sunday

‘So busy and bustling with life’ Observer

‘Breathtaking, vividly written . . . reading Wildwood is an elegiac experience’ Sunday Times

‘He writes nature as a blackbird sings, or a bird of prey rides thermals – effortlessly.’ Reader Review
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From the walnut tree at his Suffolk home, he embarks upon a quest that takes him through Britain, across Europe, to Central Asia and Australia, in search of what lies behind man’s profound and enduring connection with wood and trees.

Meeting woodlanders of all kinds, he lives in shacks and cabins, travels in search of the wild apple groves of Kazakhstan, goes coppicing in Suffolk, swims beneath the walnut trees of the Haut-Languedoc, and hunts bush plums with Aboriginal women in the outback.

Perfect for fans of Robert Macfarlane and Colin Tudge, Roger Deakin’s unmatched exploration of our relationship with trees is autobiography, history, traveller’s tale and incisive work in natural history. It will take you into the heart of the woods, where we go ‘to grow, learn and change.
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‘Enthralling’ Will Self, New Statesman

‘Extraordinary . . . some of the finest naturalist writing for many years’ Independent

‘An excellent read – lyrical and literate and full of social and historical insights of all kinds’ Colin Tudge, Financial Times

‘Enchanting, very funny, every page carries a fascinating nugget. Should serve to make us appreciate more keenly all that we have here on earth . . . one of the greatest of all nature writers’ Craig Brown, Mail on Sunday

In 1996 Roger Deakin, the late, great nature writer, set out to swim through the British Isles. From the sea, from rock pools, from rivers and streams, tarns, lakes, lochs, ponds, lidos, swimming pools and spas, from fens, dykes, moats, aqueducts, waterfalls, flooded quarries, even canals, Deakin gains a fascinating perspective on modern Britain.

Detained by water bailiffs in Winchester, intercepted in the Fowey estuary by coastguards, mistaken for a suicide on Camber sands, confronting the Corryvreckan whirlpool in the Hebrides, he discovers just how much of an outsider the native swimmer is to his landlocked, fully-dressed fellow citizens.

This is a personal journey, a bold assertion of the native swimmer’s right to roam, and an unforgettable celebration of the magic of water.