By Erica Crompton
Sinking into the cooling water, I wiggle my toes and release a long, contented sigh. My outdoor bath sits beneath a canopy of trees and open blue sky, and as I settle in, I realise this might just be my favourite corner of the garden. It feels like a tiny sanctuary carved out of nature itself.
When my fiancé Paul moved in, life shifted in practical ways too. He has used a wheelchair for twenty years, and to make our home fully accessible, the council converted our bathroom into a wet room. It was absolutely the right decision for him, but it meant losing my beloved bathtub. I looked into installing one upstairs, only to be quoted £7000—far beyond what I could justify. I’ve always been someone who prefers a long, luxurious soak over a quick shower, so the loss felt bigger than I expected.
That’s why my curiosity sparked the moment I began seeing posts about outdoor baths on my social media feeds. Advocates claimed they were great for wellbeing, surprisingly affordable, and wonderfully restorative. The idea lodged itself in my mind, and before long I was scrolling through Facebook Marketplace in search of possibilities.
Within minutes, I found it: a roll‑top bath with gleaming chrome feet, listed for £150 including delivery. It felt like fate. Paul then spotted a plumber advertising on Facebook who specialised in taps. He quoted just £70 to install a hot water tap beside the existing cold one. Suddenly, the whole project seemed not only doable but delightfully simple.
Everything fell into place within a week. The bath arrived 24 hours after I messaged the seller, and the plumber finished the tap installation three days after we booked him. I positioned the bath near the taps, attached two hoses, and just like that—my outdoor bathing dream became real.
The experience is everything I hoped for. Bathing outside helps me recharge and reset in a way indoor bathing never quite managed. According to Loughborough University researcher Dr Danny Longman, our bodies are deeply attuned to natural environments, making birdsong, fresh air and open sky powerful stress‑reducers.
Privacy matters too, of course. My bungalow backs onto a forest, but I added screens and plants for comfort. As the sun sets, my string of glowing rubber‑duck solar lights turns the whole space into a magical retreat.
