Watching swimming lessons as though underwater fully clothed in a large chamber of blue. An oppressive, audio soup that defies concentration, the mind sinks in steamy air strewn with hypnotic blue and white flickering. Splashes, children shouting, teachers shouting, parents shouting, crying, squealing. It’s a warm, sloppy, sleepy place intended for the undressed. Which is why most of the mother’s perched on the long bench seats around the toddler pools resort to child rearing banter, day care fact swapping, and toilet training tips, all higher cognitive function is suppressed, or maybe that’s just motherhood.
The three pools a constant chaos of reflected broken light, stretched with royal blue lane ropes, everything unnatural toned to aqua. There’s a paddle pool, an oblong kids pool about 90cm deep and a 25 metre pool with lap-lanes and ramp access. The huge circular lights above are unneeded today in the ambient yellow of a warm spring day that comes in from three walls of windows. The high roof curves in architecturally metaphoric waves, no doubt intentional.
Outside the 50 metre pool attracts the serious, the lappers, the one piece brigade, caps and aerodynamic goggles. The landscaped lawns are crisping the prickles nicely for summer. The café chairs on the deck lean at half-mast to drain the dew while inside a group of grey haired women occupy five tables for morning tea having aerobised in the pool.
A primary-school tsunami, forty strong surges in, overwhelming anything stationary in its path. Children strip while in constant movement, chattering, comparing costumes and technique, pile their bags and move on like locusts to form rows as though iron filings compelled by unseen forces.
Multicoloured goggles bob up and down on wet round heads, kick boards flick out of the water like frightened fish. Large prams are parked along the narrow edge, mobiles chirp, babies breast-feed or sleep.
“Rainbow arms.”
“Safety entry”
“Kick, kick, kick, that’s it, straight legs.”
“Head down.”
Toddlers and their mums take their first swim lessons, scrambling over floating rubber mats with glowing faces, going ‘shopping’ for floating toys and doing the hokey pokey.
A bored life guard stares into space while around him the confident, physically-fit stride, the overweight waddle, and the gestating move with aching slowness. A group of retired men gossip in the spa, alternating with the stream room, bathers too small for public display.
Bits of rice cracker expand in a puddle by my feet. My head beats to the doff doff doff of a child churning water with their feet.

Aquarena Aquatic and Leisure Centre, 139-153 Williamsons Road Doncaster
61 3 9848 1300
http://www.aquarena.ymca.org.au/home.aspx