Round the river bend at Vansbrosimningen

Rowan Clarke battles wardrobe malfunctions and upriver swimming at Sweden’s oldest swimming festival

Sweden is an outdoor swimmer’s dream. Water everywhere, and Allemansrätten, the right of public access to nature, is sewn into its constitution, granting everyone the freedom to swim, ski, hike and camp in both private and public land.

This outdoorsy culture gives way to excellent open water events, too, including Vansbrosimningen, one of Sweden’s and the world’s oldest and largest swimming festivals. First held in 1950 with ten swimmers, it now brings almost 13,000 swimmers, young and old, to Vansbro each July to take part in events across a week. I went there to take part in the festival’s flagship three kilometre river swim.

“Vansbrosimningen? That’s really famous,” said my Swedish friend Elin when I asked her for travel tips. The immigration officer at Stockholm Arlanda airport reacted in a similar way, his eyes wide. “It’s a tough swim,” he said as he stamped my passport.

When you’re immersed in the outdoor swimming world, you can lose perspective and forget that three kilometres in open water is tough – I was swimming twice that distance a week training for the Bantham Boomerang. But, I was about to be reminded.

A historic swim

Vansbrosimningen is unique because you swim in two rivers. Starting in the Vanån, you swim two kilometres downriver, before turning into the notoriously chilly Västerdalälven to swim the final kilometre against the flow. That final push can be brutal.

The course used to be a key timber-floating route. Until around 1970, organisers and log drivers had to clear floating logs out of the swimmers’ way so they could pass. These days, Tomas Viker, Secretary General of Vansbrosimningen told me that they put wood into the river, laying 2km of boardwalk for the event safety crew to patrol.

In 1971, creators of a new Swedish endurance circuit chose Vansbrosimningen as the swimming component along with a 30km cross-country run, 90km cross-country skiing, and a 315km cycle.
“We’re doing it as part of the Swedish Classic,” two men told me as we watched the start line. They explain how, for them, this is Classic’s most nerve-wracking component – a reminder that my perception of challenging swims isn’t normal.

A scenic swim

And yet, sitting on the riverbank in glorious sunshine with Oli Lacigova from Open Swim, watching swimmers gliding by with the river’s flow, I felt very relaxed.

“I’m so excited,” said Oli. “It’s so beautiful here, and everyone is in such a good mood – nobody’s stressing, people breaststroking –whatever you feel like, you just go down the river and enjoy it. I can’t wait!”

I felt the same. The swimmers all looked so happy as they passed us, many swimming breaststroke, some not even wearing goggles. Most wore wetsuits (recommended but not mandatory) and took their time, enjoying the view and live band that floats up and down the river. While elite swimmers complete the course in 30-45 minutes, the average time is 90+ minutes.

I joined my wave for the best pre-race warm up: dancing to catchy europop. I felt confident and happy, ignoring the sensation that reminded me why I no longer wore this blue swimsuit. Then, as I tucked my earplug strings under my swim cap, it split from nape of neck to crown. But what could I do? I followed my wave into the water hoping my goggles would hold it, and my wedgie wouldn’t be too uncomfortable.

I swam out to the middle of the river where the flow was fastest, cruising under the bridges, slowing my stroke rate and gliding to conserve energy for that upstream finale. The water was beautifully clear and fresh at just under 19°C, mineral-rich, and tinted orangey-brown by the natural iron oxides and peaty riverbed.

As I swam, I felt my wedgie deepen and my hat creep off my head until every time I sighted, my hair covered my eyes. Practically blind, I moved over to the righthand edge so not to miss the turning into the Västerdalälven. But I was too early. Nearly swimming over some breaststrokers, I apologised and tried not to think about the view they must be getting as I passed them.

Now swimming upstream, my stroke had become scrappy, and I was wasting energy. I had to stop. Handing over the scraps of my hat to a lovely safety support person, I tied up my fringe like Pebbles from The Flintstones. Only then, I could race unencumbered to the finish line.

Until next time

My wardrobe malfunctions reminded me how open water swimming is always challenging, but also how there’s nothing more gratifying than overcoming them. On a mega post-swim high, wearing my beautiful finishers’ medal depicting the rivers’ timber-floating history, I promised myself that I’d be back to do this beautiful swim again – only with a different swimsuit and a spare hat.
From the natural beauty of Sweden to the festival atmosphere, impeccable organisation and friendliness of this event, Vansbrosimningen goes down as one of my favourite swims ever.

Vansbrosimningen 2027 takes place from July 2 to July 10, 2027; vansbrosimningen.se