Freibad

I am awake at eight, feeling better than I deserve, but fumble about in the strange room and seem to take an age to shower and dress for breakfast. I arrive in the dining room at a quarter to nine and promptly text David to make sure he and Irene are aware that breakfast ends at nine. They arrive five minutes before the hour, David sporting a bruised chin and a cut lip, he stood up to remove his trousers after I left last night and promptly fell into a coffee table. Fortunately he wears a beard, otherwise he could look worse and confesses to feeling somewhat fragile, at an adjacent table a party of Americans are also recovering from post Beer Fest hangovers. Breakfast is comprehensive and superb, offering both continental and English or American alternatives. There are twenty thousand Siemans employees in Erlangen, as well as two universities, so everyone speaks excellent English. Whilst waiting for Irene and David, I have ascertained from the waiter that there is a freibad, (open air pool), about a kilometre walk from the hotel on the same road, Hartmann Strasse, so I have my day already planned out. David and Irene are meeting Michael later around midday and walking around the town. By ten o'clock, I am walking towards the swimming pool in bright, warm, sunshine, passing Siemens Medical Business on the way. The pool complex sports both a hallenbad, (25m indoor pool) and a 50m Olympic standard outdoor facility. After paying my money and making enquiries I am directed to the outdoor changing rooms and five minutes later I am in the water, which is much cooler than the Leisure Centre in Beverley. Here the water is heated to a refreshing 23 degrees Celsius, rather than the 29 degrees back home, which is far too close to blood heat for comfortable exercise. There are only five other people in the enormous facility, so I have a lane to myself and push off on 400m backstroke and keep drifting into the lane ropes, as there is no roof with girders with which to orientate my position in the lane. After a few lengths I get the hang of it and have no further problems. I follow the backstroke, with breaststroke and freestyle 400's, feeling the alcohol being purged from my body, before attempting 4 x 200m individual medleys. I haven't swum 50m butterfly in a continuous sequence for thirty years, as I haven't had access to a pool, but in the event I needn't have worried, as It turned out to be no more difficult than two 25m lengths. The pool starts to fill up by lunchtime, initially with people on their lunch break, but later with children who finish school at one and are starting their half term, Whitsuntide holiday. After showering and drying myself, I buy a coffee and apfel strudel from the cafe and end up chatting with the waitress, who wants to know where I learned my German. I tell her I learned it in the Army thirty years ago and confess I haven't been back here for ten years. " how do you maintain your fluency", she asks and I reply that I have a dachsund, called Norman and that I always speak to him in German. She seems a little unsure how to take this, but we seem to part company on reasonable terms. It is very civilised sitting in the warm spring sunshine drinking coffee and eating cake, whilst I read more of Geza Vermes, the sounds of splashing water and children's laughter echoing across the pool. A very tall man, around sixty years of age, has started to swim a vigorous old English backstroke in the lane I recently vacated, with a complete disregard for the other swimmers in the lane. Most of whom seem to be quite accomplished club swimmers and are quickly driven into other lanes, as this guy is covering the full width with his double arm action. He is moving quite quickly and maintains his pace for a good half hour, before climbing out, drying himself and striding boldly away. It is good to know that selfish arseholes are not restricted to the UK, though I doubt ours are quite so fit, and yes they are always male. David Texts to say that Michael is collecting us at six for a return to the beer Fest and dinner and I reply saying that will be fine. Around two o'clock, the sky clouds over and with the sun obscured, it becomes significantly colder, so I pack my gear and take a walk back down Hartmann Strasse to the hotel Kral, where I meditate for an hour. Around four o'clock, feeling refreshed, I venture down to the patio area and sit outside in the sunshine, the clouds having dispersed. I ask a waitress, who is on her break, if coffee and cakes are available and she tells me there is a self service facility in the restaurant, but unfortunately  no cakes. I find the espresso machine, make a coffee and return to my table and book, only to find a plate of Danish Pastries. The waitress explains that these are left over from breakfast and would otherwise be thrown away. The staff at this hotel certainly go the extra mile for their customers and seem happy to do so. David and Irene arrive around five thirty and Michael at six, we walk the long way to the Fest through the town centre gardens and past the concert hall, that has an Italianate design, quite similar to Chatsworth House in Derbyshire. In the narrow lanes of the old town, that are largely given over to cafes and restaurants, there are a steady stream of people making their way to the "Berg", or hillside, where the Fest is held. It is not quite so busy as last night as we are much earlier. The plan is to find a tent with some good music and settle down for a while with a meal and a few drinks. Most of the locals are in traditional costume and are already in a Friday night party mood, so there is a good atmosphere when we find a table at a reasonable distance from the DJ. In the event, the noise is too much for Irene, despite the use of her earplugs, and so we retire to an Italian restaurant in the old town for dinner. We have no reservation, but the waiter manages, somehow, to find us a table and take our order. The food is a little fussy for my taste, but the ingredients are excellent and we spend a couple of pleasant hours eating and chatting, before wandering home in a light drizzle, around eleven o'clock. Everyone wanting a more subdued night, as we have another long drive to Austria in the morning.