London Diaries: How to make the most of summer in England

Summer in London comes with certain expectations. The odd rain shower certainly, but also sunshine and warmth. Picnics and parties and music festivals. Light gleaming in the sky until ten o’clock at night. The kind of thing that Virginia Woolf describes in Mrs Dalloway. A lark! A plunge!

But not this year. As the world suffers record hot temperatures, London experienced one of its wettest and gloomiest Julys. And yet, people have persevered with their social calendars. They’ve learned to cram as much ‘summer’ as possible into each moment. They make do, and their persistence often yields sweet and wonderful results.

Over a weekend, two girlfriends and I visited Hampstead Heath, an ancient park in North London. With its hills and heathery fields, it evokes the countryside more than a stop on the tube. Despite the drizzle, we beelined for the swimming ponds, watching for celebrities along the way — Harry Styles owns a house nearby and often bathes in the cold murkiness.

He’s not alone in this. Post-pandemic, many Londoners have embraced wild swimming in rivers, lakes, and ponds. It’s a unique feeling. When I first plunged in, the water felt so cold it was as though someone was constricting my neck and holding my shoulders down. I gasped for breath. But a few laps accustomed me. I started enjoying the rain patter and buzzing mosquitos. The mud squelched under my feet. I rested under some trees for a moment, absorbing it all. I was in London, and yet, I was also in the wild.

We lounged on the grass after our swim, eating strawberries and gossiping. We were a far cry from the Jumeriah, but we’d made do, those first seconds of cold, acclimatizing torture only adding to our exhilaration. Alas, still no Harry, but we did spot the novelist Zadie Smith looking chic and likewise unperturbed by the weather.

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The next Friday, the same girls and I went to the Barbie film premiere at the newly redeveloped Battersea Power Station. Since last October, the once derelict Station has emerged as a locus of activity along the Thames. It now boasts luxury shops, high-rise apartments, and office spaces, all while retaining the industrial charm that Pink Floyd made famous with its album cover of a pig floating between the power station coal stacks.

Like thousands of girls across the globe, we’d dressed suitably for the film. I was Stereotypical Barbie in a pink, lacy dress. My friends donned Corporate and Sporty Barbie outfits. But the weather threatened our careful getup. Pelting rain. Wind. Ridiculously low temperatures. Yet we shivered through, rejecting sweaters and stockings. We wanted to make it feel like July. And so it did.

We emerged from the movie to glistening sunshine. A reward for our efforts? Perhaps. Either way, it felt miraculous and special. That, I think, is the gift of this London summer.

• Opinion
• Europe