Apologies for
another C&P, but here are my thoughts about recent days down at the lido. Feel free to use again
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The first proper lovely lido day of the new season on Sunday. The mid-May ice pool plunge now seems as distant away as the closing of the lido in early October.
It's days like these where lido life really takes off. The empty early mid-week mornings are wonderful for solace, but on a Phew Wot A Scorcher Sunday afternoon, the lido community comes into its own.
Of course it was going to be busy. A later start than planned (how many times must a man be told to varnish his front garden fence?) but hey - a quick swipe of the season ticket and I was queue jumping like a Labour Party donor having just added to the advertising budget.
Midday, and the pool surrounds were full of sun worshippers. I still managed to find a spot in the topless Brixton bohemian corner, far away from the chattering classes of the Dulwich Mums down at the other end.
Time to put the lengths in. Not a great swim, but I had sun and sleeping on my mind. The water was warm (really!) and the reflection from the SE24 blue skies patterned the bottom of the pool with flickering rays of light with every stroke.
No kiddie piss in there today, then.
Twenty lengths later and I was done. My daily visits so far this season since the ice pool plunge opening have meant a steaming hot shower and then the morning commute. Not so on Sunday.
Straight out of the pool and onto the beach towel, headphones on and I didn't get past track three on John Martyn's Solid Air, something of a lovely lido favourite for me.
I was out for the count until midway through Side 2 (which being a John Martyn album, just about justifies still talking about it in old pounds, shillings & pence.)
I was by now cornered in North, South, East and West by towels. I had been annexed by a bunch of female German students. Being in the topless Brixton Bohemian corner, I wasn't complaining.
The talk was sadly of the state of the old Cafe. This is the first season since the re-opening of the Lido in '94 that there hasn't been the reassuring presence of Casey McGlue casting a watchful eye over the lido. Recent years has seen the beach hut being an extension of the excellent Beamish & McGlue deli moving down from West Norwood to Brockwell Park. Not so this year, with Fusion setting up shop on its own, offering a rather basic (and bland) menu of milky tea and over-priced crisps.
I don't come to the lido to munch away on crappy crisps, I come to fall asleep and lose myself. Which is something I was well on the way to doing by the time Dub Side of the Moon shuffled up on the iPod.
More of the same today. And tomorrow, and the day after...