Timing

Yesterday I went down to the pool at about 6.15 pm. 

Mistake!!! 

The pool was full of mothers persuading very small children wearing armbands to kick their legs and move their arms around. Well, it worked for Loudon Wainwright so why not for small Spaniards. 

Occasional spaces were instantly filled by slightly bigger but still fairly small boys jumping in with cries of, “¡Voy a hacer la bomba!” Fortunately someone had taught them some pool etiquette and they would remind each other to wait if there was a person in their line of fire: “Hay gente”. Considering the way small children here can walk into you, forwards and backwards, without even being aware that they have done so, I must say I was impressed. 

Teenage boys were playing football on the grass and then jumping into the pool to cool off. 

A group of dads stood in one corner of the pool, neck deep, chewing the fat. 

 Small girls? I didn’t see many. Perhaps our two towers don’t have many. A couple of them were teaching Barbie to swim. 

Teenage girls? Again not many. Those who were there were boosting their tan. 

There seemed to be a certain amount of gender stereotyping going on at the pool, I must say! 

 Anyway, I had gone down with the idea of having a swim. No chance. I stood in the water for a while and cooled off and that was all. 

So today I went down at about 11.45 am. Bliss! Two or three young women and me and an otherwise empty pool. I shall try again tomorrow and see if this is truly the best time of day for swimming as opposed to just socialising. Which I have not objection to at all; it just wasn’t my plan for last night. 

 Walking along our road I came across this set of steps with a gate at the top. A rather bleak reminder of when the road had old houses and not two great tower blocks and a supermarket. Number 148 is the block next door to ours.


I hope the postman doesn’t try to deliver mail to the old number.