The devil

My totally worn-out silver sandals purchased on my trip to Brazil in 2008. No idea what brand, but they where terribly cheap.  So, you see, I am not really a shoe snob. Right.

Returned to our little cocoon in France again, after a hellish week. This time - we are back for the summer! Yay! Opening the doors of the winter garden on to the terrace we catch the first signs of the disaster. The pool is GREEN. Yup. Very much so. A very HAIRY kind of green. Shit-shit-shit.  I instantly call the gardener / pool man. Managing to explain in my quite limited French that "la piscine" is "pas bon" (I am starting to realize that my house and gardening vocabulary in French is also "pas bon"). Still, somehow he gets the message, and arrives five minutes later. There is a lot of "oh-la-la"-ing and "oh-lo-lo"-ing.

Then, he starts chain-smoking, and staring into the pool. Like STARING at algae will make it go away. In retrospect, I guess he was just waiting for me to offer him a cold beer. While he was working. Oh. So. Hard.

After standing there for fifteen minutes - fifteen minutes that felt more like an hour, he gave me instructions to go buy some anti-algae stuff for the pool. Before assuring me that it was absolutely no problem to swim, the algae is not "dangereuse". All while giving me his sleazy grin combined with a not the least discrete version of his "knowing" elevator look. Eeeeeek.

I really don't know what is the matter with this guy. Everytime there is talk of the pool, he is making gestures for me to jump in. IS this because I am Scandinavian? And blonde? Funny this. You know how Americans perceive the Europeans to be so "natural" and "free". I once visited a hotel beach (!) in Vegas that had a EUROPEAN dress code. Which meant that girls were allowed to sunbathe topless. Very European, yeah. So, when you get to Europe - more specifically FRANCE, all of a sudden it is the SCANDINAVIANS that are perceived as the "wild ones". Apparently, we are totally happy to jump in an algae infested pool with a sleazy gardener watching. Oh yeah. Know what? In Scandinavia, the general opinion is that it is the SWEDISH girls that behave like that. Hm. I wonder what they say in Sweden then. Perhaps there is some tiny remote village in Sweden where there are girls that really behave like porn stars? Just wondering.

Anyway. As Madame did not seem to want to go swimming, Quasimodo decided to leave the premises. With the green pool left very much in the same condition as it was upon his arrival.

The morning after I waited outside the "jardins et piscines" section of the huge Castorama (the go-to-place for anything practical) in Le Cannet. BEFORE 8 in the morning. Scratching on the door. Together with two older guys that were most probably retired (or should have been). You know how old people always get up early. Is it because they fear that they might die soon, so they need to make the most out of the limited time they have left? I have no idea.

I returned to the house with the green pond a good hour later. Armed with three huge plastic cans containing an anti-algae solution that I guess is good to kill algae, but mot probably it is not what you would want to SWIM in. Won't do much for your skin I guess. But most importantly -  I was joined by the most impressive machine ever seen by humans. THE DIRT DEVIL. Nothing less. A robot that randomly moves round the bottom of the pool sucking all yuckiness into a small filter. (That needs to be cleaned by a MAN afterwards, as it is TOTALLY yucky with a mix of crawling LIVE ALGAE and dead insects in it). The incredible robot even climbs and brushes the walls of the pool. I think somebody ought to give the the inventor a Nobel Prize.

So, Mr. Incredible has a bright red new friend. Robert the Robot. As we did not really like the devil-name. And we have a much cleaner pool.

Of course, Quasimodo returned in the afternoon. So that he could take credit for all the work that Mr. Incredible had done on the pool. The work we had already been so stupid to pay the French little rat to do THREE MONTHS IN ADVANCE.

Ok, making that prepayment WAS a bit blonde. I have to admit that.