We stayed in a Ryanair recommended hotel in Gothenburg at the start of August last year. I know Tim booked it as a treat for me for the rooftop pool.

I really do love to swim and it had been some time since I was able. I could feel my flexibility returning a little bit. I was once again organised with the togs, the swimming goggles, the contact lenses, the pool shoes and the bobble for the hair.

So there I was, armed with my red Irish Farmers Journal bag of stuff. Even the sunglasses were there for the rooftop under the sunshine. I left Tim happily relaxing in the room. My slot was for two hours, costing an extra €25.

I was sure going to get the value out of it and stay the full two hours. Off I went to find the lift for the 13th floor. I had in my fist my gold coloured entry card for the area.

Confidently, I stepped in to join five tall elegant, heavily tanned, young Swedish ladies in their white robes with matching white polished toenails and fingernails. Was this a thing in Sweden, I wondered? I looked up fast so they wouldn’t direct their eyes to my home done, rough job, bright red toe nails. I had my robe across my arm.

There was no wetting of shoulders or beautiful hairdos. What a waste of a lovely pool and its rooftop beauty

The lift stopped at nine, two tall blonde young gentlemen entered. You guessed it, white robes but without the toenails done. Interesting tattoos though. They knew the girls. Off we moved again. We stopped again at 11 and two teenage girls were called forth by irate sisters (I’m guessing). They too had the white nails.

Maybe it was a hen party? We arrived on level 13. I stepped out first, flashed my gold card and opened the door to the rooftop area. My eyes swept across the pool to the left and a cocktail bar full of loungers. No changing rooms visible and everyone was under 30.

Starting again

This granny had to dig deep to find her courage. I about turned and found a corner to change in a service area.

I re-entered, selected a lounger and took out my book. I wished I’d a few of my girlfriends with me for a good giggle.

The Swedish group chatted away and constantly interjected with what sounded like the Irish phrase ‘tóg go bog é.’ I was trying my best to do just that. The group had some cocktails. I did too. Then they headed off to the pool.

It was up five or six steps and not visible from the cocktail area.

After a while, I decided I’d go for a swim as time was pushing on. Up the steps I went to find the ladies and gentlemen all standing around in the pool posing for each other to create social media clips.

There was no wetting of shoulders or beautiful hairdos. What a waste of a lovely pool and its rooftop beauty.

I swam right down the middle of them, paused at the bottom and swam back up again. I kept on enjoying the warm water, the lovely view out over the city of Gothenburg and the freedom of my limbs stretching out in the water.

I was so tempted to do a little unruly splashing. Now, had I one of my special friends with me, then I might have gone for it.

Once the posing part was over for the Swedish group, they gathered up and left, leaving me to have the pool all to myself. Isn’t it sad when social media controls your life to that degree?