when we are not sure, we are alive.

GRAHAM GREENE

it is a very damp, colurless day here. still half asleep as i was fixing breakfast this morning i heard my son say "where are all the clouds? are they switched off?" - which i thought was a little gem.

yes, the clouds are switched off today - as is the sky, falling flat and grey on the sea and only broken by random, sudden showers.

went for my monday swim today.

the pool is at the back of a rather swanky hotel. i will never get used to how nosy people are here - and the staff at the entrance is no exception.

"how is your job going?" is today's first question from the cheerful man at the reception desk.

"alright" i try to keep it short.

"but where do you teach?" he insists.

"i can't remember the address...i am afraid" i say, trying to sound as simple as possible.

without even disguising his annoyment, he calls a colleague for some support - as if i am playing some kind of cluedo game here.

"like...is it...around this part of town? - like behind the hotel...?" he suggests...

"...no, it MUST be the one by the church...there is a church next to it, right?" his colleague presses me.

"no, no church" i tell them innocently - while rather enjoying the situation.

"...so - where, then??" the first one asks again.

i am dying to enter - i can feel the smell of chlorine in the air and just want to dash away from the bloody reception desk.

so i say... "do you know where the sea is?"

and they eagerly nod "of course" one of them concedes.

"it is kind of next to it" i conclude with a faint smile "can i have my locker's number?"

the place is busy but quiet at the same time - in the changing room people say hi and smile, like old aquaintances. i hide from the overenthusiasm and head to the steam room, then to the sauna - and finally swim for a good hour.

i always swim in the early afternoon - and for some kind of bizarre reason, this is a rather geriatric hour. i seem to be the only person under the age of 78.

from the water, looking up - every now and then i catch a glimpse of the people sashaying past. sequences of body parts that are either protruding, thinning, wrinkling or, in other words, decading. i must confess i am starting to develop a fascination for varicose veins - especially the blue ones.

when i am not intent on pondering on the different physiologies of ageing - i look out of the immense window opening onto the garden and its trees or simply...

i loose track of time and follow the chlorine tide...

up and down...

up and down... -

up...

and down again