#20laps – The Brixton Municipal Swimming Pool

It’s an unbearably hot November afternoon and I’m completely out of my comfort zone. A sign at the entrance of the pool reads: NO DRUGS NO WEAPONS NO HOOKAHS NO DOGS. The brick building has faded yellow paint, with graffiti-tag accents. In the parking lot, a group of men laugh and shout next to tow truck, empty quarts of Black Label are knocked about by their bare feet.

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#20laps – The Linden Swimming Pool

Ice pelts metal in an elemental rage. The noise is deafening inside the indoor Linden swimming pool, but it’s a good thing we came here – it’s not exactly poolside weather. Pockets of Speedoed swimmers with towelled shoulders stand clumped together, dripping onto the concrete, their breath misting up the glass windows. The sky cracks with electricity. I see the rest of the #20laps team and head over to them. “We’ve been told to get out the water because of the lightening,” says Alex. All I hear is “out” and “water” and “lightening”. Gail gestures to me so I stand next to her; she leans in close and shouts something about the superintendent not wanting to talk to anyone or have his photo taken.

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#20laps – The Zoo Lake Swimming Pool

It looks like the whole of Joburg has come to Zoo Lake. It’s an uncharacteristically sweltering spring day; there’s boating and braaiing, and the Boules Club is throbbing. I’m not quite sure where the Zoo Lake swimming pool is, so I stop to ask a very busy car guard. “It’s on the other side, mfethu,” he responds. Fair enough, I look like a small boy with my camo cap and sunglasses. Cars snake, engines groan, people hoot. I finally manage to find a spot. It’s a glorious day, and the entrance to the pool is glorious in equal measure: it’s grand and colonial and quondam. I pay my nine ront and enter.

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