Monday, December 14, 2009

Tales from the gym...

Overheard a middle-aged guy talking to his personal trainer about India. The customer was planning a trip to the sub-continent on the advice of his brother, who'd spent four months trekking around.

"Once you get over the begging, it's fine," he said, relaying the frank advice he'd obviously been given.

Personally, I wouldn't get over the begging, which is one of the reasons I'm not inclined to go. Who has the more morally dubious position, do you suppose? The first-world tourist who swans around a poverty-stricken part of the world and blots out what he sees? Or the one who stays at home because he doesn't want to see it in the first place?

Meanwhile, a number of ladies were in the pool for an aqua aerobics class. They were working out to Shalamar and Odyssey, although I judged by their ages that Bill Haley & The Comets might have been more appropriate. I swam on the other side of the pool, the only man brave enough to intrude - even remotely - on their space.

I actually admire those who participate in these classes, because you're in a public area on full view, rather than behind closed doors in a studio. But I wonder what would happen if I volunteered to join the group? Presumably they couldn't refuse? But I seem to be the wrong gender. And perhaps they'd tell me to apply again in twenty years.

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