His first excuse is that he doesn’t have his swimming trunks with him. His last is that he hasn’t swum in nearly 6 years. But I am persistent. I want to swim today and I ask again, are you coming?
It is nearly 6 p.m. when Michael and I arrive at the Schlachtensee station. There is nothing but bright sunshine this afternoon, so the lakeside is teaming with sun worshippers and the footpath round the lake is crowded with runners, walkers and toddlers.
I worry aloud about where we could lay out our blanket. But Michael spies the boat rental and asks, What about that?
We rent our boat from a woman whose face and spirit could be the dictionary entry for “hag.” Michael needs those first moments pushed away from the shore just to shake himself of her. But then it’s the middle of the lake, the lap swimmers cruising by, the splashers loud at the shore, the waterfowl small and large… He gets practically giggly with joy.
Ok, ok, he concedes. He strips and jumps naked into the lake. I strip and follow.
Happy perky sun-kissed lake-wet nipples. Absolutely.
