S5, E13: Want to Discover the Soul of Switzerland? Dive Into Its Rivers.

In the 13th episode of Travel Tales by Dinogo, Bonnie Tsui, author of Why We Swim, takes a plunge into three Swiss rivers. As she swims through Zurich, Bern, and Basel, she converses with locals, uncovering the unique role river-swimming plays in Swiss life, from daily commutes to shaping the cities' histories.

Episode Transcript

Aislyn Greene: I’m Aislyn Greene, and welcome to Travel Tales by Dinogo. Every week, we bring you transformative travel stories from an array of voices—poets, scientists, authors, and more. In this final episode of season five, we’ll take a journey down one of Switzerland’s iconic rivers.

Our guide today is Bonnie Tsui, author of Why We Swim, a deep dive into humanity's cultural and scientific connection with water. Swimming runs in Bonnie's blood: her parents met at a pool in Hong Kong, and she grew up swimming in New York at Jones Beach, lifeguarding with her brother, and fostering a lifelong passion for the water.

Bonnie has contributed several pieces to Dinogo, and the one you're about to experience is one of her newest. It’s a story of a dog, the allure of open water swimming, and how Swiss rivers—and the swimmers who frequent them—reflect the essence of the cities they flow through.

Bonnie Tsui: It’s midday on Zurich’s Limmat River, during the first real heatwave of the Swiss summer. Under the blazing June sun, sunbathers stretch out on wooden decks, confidently sporting minimal swimwear. When the heat becomes unbearable, they leap into the river, flowing along with the current before climbing out to repeat the ritual.

I had just landed in Zurich from San Francisco, and thanks to the famously efficient Swiss trains, the river was only a 12-minute ride from the airport. Though on my way to Basel, I couldn’t resist a quick stop to take a dip. So, I stashed my luggage at the train station, grabbed my towel, swimsuit, and goggles, and headed to Oberer Letten, a riverside pool complex in the center of Zurich.

Standing at the water’s edge, I could feel the strong pull of the Limmat around my calves. 'Let’s go!' the river seemed to beckon. Its chilly waters, swollen from weeks of rain, shook off my jet lag immediately. As I swam against the current, my mind and body were fully energized, with the sun greeting me each time I took a breath.

As soon as I paused to tread water, the current swept me downstream to the exit by the lifeguard station. Swimming has always been in my blood—from the Atlantic to the Aegean, the Caribbean to the Coral Sea—and every new body of water offers a unique thrill.

The lifeguards at Oberer Letten are welcoming, chatting with me about where I’m from and their favorite water sports. During our conversation, a fellow swimmer kindly offers to snap a photo for me.

Though the Limmat is relatively short—just 22 miles from Lake Zurich to its confluence with the Aare—it provides a delightful introduction to Swiss river life. After a refreshing dip, I wave goodbye to the lifeguards and hop back on the train to Basel.

Every great Swiss city boasts a river for swimming—whether it's during a lunch break or even as part of a daily commute. Known as 'the water tower of Europe,' Switzerland holds over 6 percent of the continent's freshwater reserves, with several major European rivers originating in the Alps.

Switzerland’s position as Europe’s hydrographic hub has shaped the histories of cities like Bern, Basel, Zurich, and Geneva, placing them at crucial trade routes and strategic crossings.

I first witnessed Switzerland’s deep connection with its rivers 20 years ago, when my husband, Matt, and I swam down the Aare River in Bern, the Swiss capital, accompanied by a dog named Arcas.

I’ve never been much of a dog person, and it’s always felt like a flaw. But Arcas was different.

Arcas was just a rust-colored farm puppy back then, one ear perked up, the other flopped down, and a little nervous around water. He belonged to our close friend August, a Swiss German native of Bern. The Aare River, known for its glacier-fed chill and striking blue hue, flows directly from the Bernese Alps.

What stands out from that day was the surreal blue of the river and the exhilarating ride downstream with a puppy seeing the world afresh. So were we. It was the first time we’d witnessed a river so entwined with city life, both as a means of travel and a playground for adventure.

On this trip, I’m keen to explore that connection further, focusing on Basel and the Rhine, Switzerland’s longest and most legendary river. What might the Rhine reveal about the city’s character?

When I check into Hotel Krafft on the Kleinbasel side of the Rhine, my hair still damp from my swim in the Limmat, I find a dry bag hanging in my cozy room, ready for my next river adventure.

Looks like it's turning into a two-river day.

The Rhine, stretching over 230 miles in Switzerland from the Alps to the German border, dwarfs Zurich's Limmat. Hundreds of swimmers share the river with ferries, cruise boats, and cargo ships transporting Switzerland's oil and gasoline. It may sound risky, but on a hot summer day, everyone dives in—even those who swim year-round.

The Rhine wasn’t always a swimmer's haven. By the 1970s, industrial pollution had overtaken the river, despite traces of old public baths. Over a century ago, textile factories were set up along a canal that poured toxic waste into the Rhine.

A decades-long cleanup transformed the Rhine into a swimmable river, now cherished by locals and tourists. Every August, the Basler Rheinschwimmen event attracts thousands of swimmers, with city officials promoting water safety.

By the time I plunge in on this hot June afternoon, it’s 5:30 p.m.—happy hour. The sun is still high, and the river echoes with the sounds of swimmers joyfully making their way downstream.

Floating just 10 feet away from me in the cool current is my Swiss swim guide, Thomas Flatt, wearing a fisherman’s cap to shield his eyes from the sun.

Thomas, a lean and sun-kissed 55-year-old with a smile like a movie star, serves on the board of IG Rheinschwimmen, a volunteer group promoting safe swimming in the Rhine. Their guidelines? Swim with a buddy, stay in buoy-marked areas, and keep an eye out for boats. No jumping off bridges, swimming under the influence, or using flotation devices. Thomas explains that Rhine swimming relies on personal responsibility, not government oversight.

Thomas Flatt: That’s why we formed this group—to protect swimmers' rights. In Basel, you're free to swim anywhere in the river.

Bonnie: With the Rhine flowing through the heart of Basel, it’s a key recreation spot for nearly 200,000 residents, over 30 percent of whom are from abroad. It’s a space where people from all walks of life come together.

Thomas is leading me on a swim under three of Basel’s bridges. We’re accompanied by a group of his friends: a Dutchman, two sisters from just outside Basel, and a woman from Ohio who’s been living here for over 20 years. They all share a deep connection with the Rhine.

Niels is the Dutch guy in our group.

Niels van der Valk: I’m Niels from the Netherlands. I’ve lived here for eight years now. Swimming has always been part of my life, but my real connection to the Rhine began when I moved here. I discovered that it’s a wonderful summer spot, often reaching 30 degrees Celsius, which completely surprised me. I started bringing my family to the Rhine, and on sunny days, there are thousands of people floating by.

Bonnie: Sahar, the American, was the one who introduced Thomas to winter swimming in the Rhine.

Bonnie [in interview]: Could you please share your full name?

Sahar Salah Mansour: My name is Sahar Salah Mansour. I moved here in '95 and have been around ever since. About four years ago, I started swimming and found it incredible. I went with a Finnish friend who, just 30 seconds after getting in, urged me to come out. I told him I wasn't even cold! I realized I could comfortably stay in the frigid water for up to 30 minutes.

Bonnie: And then you adjust to it pretty quickly, too.

The vibrant cityscape of Basel rushes past us—fast-moving water, sunlit cathedral spires, lively sidewalk cafés, and riverbanks buzzing with conversation and clinking glasses. We watch for exit points and finally climb out at a ladder before Dreirosenbrücke, the last bridge before the Port of Switzerland. From here, we can see all the way to France and Germany, with their water towers and churches just beyond the bridge.

Before I can even dry off, my new friends whip up some après-swim Aperol spritzes and a feast of bread, cheese, olives, and hummus from one of the riverside buvettes—those seasonal pop-up spots for food and drinks. We grab café chairs and chat about swimming in other Swiss rivers—the Limmat in Zurich, the Aare in Bern, and even the Rhône in Geneva and the Reuss in Lucerne. Everyone agrees that while those rivers have their appeal, there's something unique about swimming in Basel, woven into the city's character.

Swimming here is such a natural part of life that taking a dip reveals the true essence of each place. Thomas points out a few swimmers drifting by.

Thomas: It's because swimming through the heart of the city is such a special experience. Like them, see?

We just want to outdo Zurich… there’s always a rivalry between Basel and Zurich.

Bonnie: The following evening, I meet up with another of Thomas's friends, Barbara Zimmerle. She invites me for a dip at Rheinbad Breite, a 125-year-old bathhouse that was recently renovated. In a sunny break between clouds, we stroll upriver and float back to the swim club, conveniently located by a staircase. Barbara, who volunteers on the club's board, helped fund the expansion that restored the bathhouse to its original size. It now features two levels with changing rooms, showers, lockers, a winter sauna, and wide decks for sunbathing after a swim. For just six Swiss francs, anyone can use the facilities, the same fee as any public pool in the city.

Barbara lives just up the hill from the club—so close you could almost throw a stone and hit her window. She explains how her daily routine is shaped by the ships passing through the port, the horns warning swimmers downstream, and the changing winds, temperature, and weather.

She shows me a picture from a morning not long ago when, instead of biking, her 15-year-old daughter packed her things in a dry bag and swam to school with a friend.

'She doesn’t do it all the time,' Barbara says, 'but it’s such a lovely way to get to school.'

Experiencing Swiss river life inevitably brings with it the realization that our beloved outdoor pursuits are increasingly at risk from the vast changes triggered by climate change—Alpine river swimming being one of the most vulnerable.

I spoke with Stefanie Gubler, head of the Swiss National Park Research Commission, whose work revolves around biodiversity, climate change, and ecosystem impacts. In the southwestern Swiss mountains, you used to be able to hike just 30 minutes from the parking lot to the glacier’s edge. Now, the glacier is gone. 'Snow is a concern,' she notes, 'and the entire river system is feeling it.'

The changes she’s observed vary wildly from year to year—extreme heat, drought, and river sediment buildup one season; torrential rain, flooding, and rockfall the next as the landscape becomes increasingly unstable. For swimmers, this translates into more hazardous and unpredictable conditions. During my visit, Switzerland was hit by heavy rains and floods, causing rivers to rise dangerously and fill with debris. The intersection of climate and culture is profound, and its future remains uncertain.

I reflect on how rivers are integral to the daily life of this region. Many everyday activities seem to have their own 'just-add-water' variation. But floating isn’t effortless. Staying afloat—both in the water and metaphorically—demands care, vigilance, and shared responsibility. It’s true for all things worth preserving.

Aislyn Greene: And that was Bonnie Tsui. Don’t you feel like diving into a river now? For some added motivation, we’ll link to her book, *Why We Swim*, and her website in the show notes. Plus, look out for her upcoming release, *On Muscle: The Stuff That Moves Us and Why It Matters*, coming April 22, 2025. We’ll also include the pre-order link. And that wraps our final episode of the season. We’ll return in 2025 with more inspiring stories of transformative travel. See you then!

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This has been Travel Tales, brought to you by Dinogo Media. The podcast is produced by Aislyn Greene and Nikki Galteland, with music composed and produced by Strike Audio.

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