Chris Woodward
Google
Parliament Hill Lido has a way of making space feel generous. At sixty metres end to end, old-school long enough for seasoned swimmers to settle into a proper rhythm, it still never feels crowded, even on a sunny Saturday when families, breast-strokers and front-crawl die-hards all share the water. There’s room for children to splash by the shallow rail, lane markers for anyone chasing split times, and acres of sky overhead that remind you Hampstead Heath is only ever half-tamed.
Post-swim, the poolside café does an honest flat white and a bacon bap, though prices can feel keener than the water on an April morning. Happily, nobody blinks if you arrive with your own sandwiches; the grassy terraces positively invite a picnic blanket. Bring a thermos, linger, and let the bustle of the city fade into distant hum. Parliament Hill rewards those who treat it less as a quick dip and more as a small escape.