05/12/2011 by Carl Reynolds
Working up north, but no time to swim in Grasmere or Coniston, so having to satisfy the need to swim in a hotel pool. It’s twelve metres long and seven metres wide. And it’s about 30 degrees C. But it’s a welcoming experience. I get a towel, a lovely clean changing room with hot and cold showers. And being Cumbria everyone wants to have a chat. Just like Tooting Bec Lido then.
The pool would be crowded with more than four people in it. Thankfully there are only four of us. The other three are at least twenty years older than me. One of them is doing aqua gymnastics and the other two are chatting whilst swimming a form of head up breaststroke that requires you to dangle your legs and flutter them now and again. I join in the sedate pace. It’s too hot to swim at any speed, so I fall into a very lazy crawl. And promptly fall asleep. It takes precisely seven strokes to get from one end to the other. I’d have to count to 80 to do a kilometre and at the pace I’m going I’d fall asleep again before I’d get to 20.
After twenty minutes I am very warm, so I decide to go into the steam room. It’s very minty. And very hot, steamy even. I get talking to a retired firefighter and for a moment feel I’m back in the sauna at this lido. I have to leave within five minutes and take advantage of the cold shower though. My adventure is over. I’ve survived an indoor pool. I have another three days to use this pool before I can get back into the chilly embrace of the lido. I will survive. It’d be churlish not to.