With temperatures decidedly hot in Fribourg, I ventured to the city’s municipal pool, handily located in the old town right along the Sarine river. It’s a very nice facility, complete with a proper 50 meter pool that has a few lanes set up for lap swimmers. Fribourgian swimmers are an odd lot, with few of them serious enough to either get their head wet or wear goggles, though the men are passionate about their teeny speedos. The general lack of speed of the folks in the fast lane helped me practice short sprints as I passed swimmers.
However, lane etiquette was definitely lacking overall, and I’m not sure if that’s an overall Swiss thing or just a cantonal thing. There was a particular old lady who was kicking on her side with fins, who never stopped at the wall to let people pass, instead moving her sizable girth around with nary a glance backward. I had to pass her at one point, and I swear as I did she peed in my direction. How else to explain the sudden jet of warmth that hit me in an otherwise cool pool? It was about that time I decided to focus on kicking forcefully, unfortunately causing the old hag’s hair to get wet. Tant pis, eh?