New Normal 3? 4? 5? – Who knows? Day 1, Monday.
The first swim for weeks!
It was only after I had jumped in that I realized how much I had missed this particular form of daily exercise. There is something about the enveloping support of lukewarm water that is immensely satisfying. Even my rudimentary warm-up exercises seemed to bring neglected muscles back into play, and the swim itself was ‘easy’ – not without effort you understand, but comfortable and known. I swam 1600 metres and could have swum more, but the temptation of a café made cup of tea and bocadillo were irresistible and so I had my just reward for early morning effort and sufficient ‘fuel’ for the bike ride to Port Ginesta and back.
There are changes to what used to be the changed routine of pre-this-lockdown. Although the numbers for swimming are the same (maximum of ten pre-booked people per hour spread over five lanes) we are now no longer allowed to put our clothes in the lockers provided, we have to take them with us to the pool side. We are no longer allowed to shower after the swim. We can use the poolside showers immediately before and after the swim, but an extended shower with soap in the changing room is no longer acceptable.
In the café attached to the pool, the door is constantly open to facilitate a greater flow of air; part of the seating area has been taped off to keep within the 30% capacity and the tables that are in use have been more widely spaced out. The terrace space can be fully utilized, but although bright and sunny, this is no weather for sitting outside.
Masks must be worn in all areas of the centre except when eating and drinking. This does not apply to smokers for reasons that I cannot fathom. Why should leeway we allowed to those with a filthy and dangerous habit? In a centre dedicated to health and exercise!
I have to admit that I felt mildly exhilarated after my bike ride – exercise – swim – exercise - tea and bocadillo - bike ride! I think it was more to do with getting back into an almost forgotten regime than the beneficial effect of more effort than usual over the past few weeks.
I even managed to scribble down a few comments and ideas in my notebook, though I think that their more than usual mundanity means that they have little chance of being worked up into something more substantial. But at least notes were made!
Carles (the man who swims in the lane next to me and is a keen learner of English) was keen to find out different ways of expressing ‘death’, so I compiled a list of expressions off the top of my head ranging from “snuffed it” to “shuffled off this mortal coil”, though Carles was more interested in “passed away” and “taken by god” as being more relatable to Catalan/Spanish and using English words with which he was familiar. I also gave him “kicked the bucket” to think about, which took a great deal of explaining and made me wonder just where the expression came from and why.
And of course, I could not resist and I have just looked up the possible derivations and now possess more information than is usefully necessary in connection with the expression. For the sake of brevity, I will go with the suggestion that the bucket was something kicked away from under the feet of a person about to be hanged. But there is much more if you care to look!
Not only is today the first time for weeks that I have been able to have a swim in the local pool, it will also be the first time that we will be able to go to a restaurant and have a menu del dia. Replete with masks and tubes of hygienic, alcohol-heavy hand wash, we will venture into the centre of town and re-patronize one of our favourite restaurants Olave.
While the food is generally good to excellent, the usp for me is the fact that they provide Catalan bread, i.e. toasted bread with ripe tomatoes and garlic to squeeze and scrape. Sometimes this bread is the best part of the meal!
To be frank, we are so eager to get back into the habit of eating out, that virtually anything will be a treat! Though, I have to say that it is relatively easy to find a more-than-acceptable meal at a reasonable cost in Castelldefels. While that is true, I also have to admit that my standards have risen appreciably since I have lived here. When I first arrived, the delight I felt at virtually anything that was put in front of me meant that my critical gastronomic abilities were somewhat deadened. Now, I am more demanding – much to Toni’s satisfaction, as he feels that I am getting more and more attuned to what is best in Catalan cooking. Though sincerely liking the lumpen, solid fat of fuet is still a major stumbling block to my wholesale acceptance of Catalan cooking and food as the ideal!
