Before I tell you about this morning, I have to say, the worst thing about staying where we do - a large, multinational hotel filled with one-bedroom apartments, is that there are regular instances when the fire alarm goes off. In the last three days I've heard it go off twice. Once at one a.m. The other just now at three in the afternoon. And yes, you do need to be aware of public safety, but it's bloody loud and bloody annoying, and probably only because somebody has burned their toast or is stupid enough to let the smoke drift in when they're smoking on their balconies. As somebody who dislikes loud noise, it sets my bones on edge.
Okay, look for the good.
- My washing is drying in the sunshine on my balcony.
- I've had a chat to EJ, an old colleague, and my Mum.
- I've been for a walk.
- I've watched a wonderful, but very touching film. (Me, Earl and the Dying Girl - fantastic film, but pushes a few buttons.)
- And according to my new Apple Watch, I've done nearly two hours of walking, thanks to the morning activities.
So, this morning, I got up, had a coffee, put on my swimmers and went down to the wave pool for Granny Aerobics - also known as water aerobics. This happens every Sunday morning at the wave pool. A gaggle of grannies get in the water and get put through their paces by a perky instructor who has far too much energy going for 8.30 on a Sunday morning. There's normally 30-40 people there. It's a community-based activity. For $8, it's cheap, fun exercise which is outside in the sunshine. What more can you ask for?
What surprised me today was that in the pool with the older women were four blokes - who were probably in their 60s, quite happily bouncing around with the rest of us.
There is much being said about this loneliness epidemic with men. Yes, men's loneliness is a thing. According to AI, "Yes, there's a growing concern about a "male loneliness epidemic," with many men experiencing significant levels of social isolation and disconnection. This is a complex issue with various contributing factors, including societal expectations, changes in social structures, and difficulties in forming and maintaining close friendships."
And yes, I can see this. I've asked a number of my male friends who their best mate is - many can't really answer this. Men don't appear to cultivate friendships once they hit a certain age. Of course, there are lots of men who do get out there - but there's a hell of a lot who do not. Another wise friend told me that where men shrink back into themselves, women expand and look for connections.
Anyway, there were some older blokes in the wave pool, and they seemed to be having a lovely time.
Maybe it was because the instructor, a little Colombian pocket rocket wearing tiny shorts, a bum that you could bounce coins off of and a the admission that she was a dance instructor. She introduced us to her boyfriend - a fellow named Adonis, who was equally genetically blessed.
The rest of us older, allegedly wiser women, in our sensible bathers, rashies, bucket hats, sunscreen and sunglasses just got on with it.
But it was nice to see the older gentlemen getting on with it. There should be more of it. As long as they don't get too blokey. That would kill the mood.
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