A grey haired father, struggling to hold in his stomach as he puffs and pants to inflate a pair of armbands.
A young looking young lifeguard, proudly surveying his pool from the top of his elevated position.
An old boy that has long since given up the fight for a six-pack, perching on a giant plant pot and fiddling with his toes.
A young mother breastfeeding.
A girl with braided hair, all elbows and pointy joints, strumming away a couple of chords on a guitar that has seen both better days and tunes.
A bombardment of kids, bombarding the shallow end with running jumps.
A family of four, engulfed in the livery of orange bags from Sainsbury’s, trying to justify the weekly food budget being blown on an afternoon picnic at the lido.
A toddler with hair as radiant as the skies above, walking, crawling and mumbling a collection of new sounds.
The appearance of a bald patch every third stroke, rising out of the waters of Lake Brockwell in an attempt to revive baldness through an extended use of breaststroke.
Three South London good time girls, fresh from either a South American tropical break, or half an hour at the Streatham Tanning Suite.
A bloke snoozing off the Sunday afternoon booze, oblivious to the gentle trickle of sweat drops down his beer belly.
A fly hovering over the gentle trickle of sweat drops down the beer belly, confused by this new source of nourishment.
Proud parents watching their children swim half a width for the first time.
A group of glitter infested teenage girls, clothes and flesh, one wearing wings and looking all set for sitting around drinking coffee in the sixth form common room for the following two years.
A gym boy taking ever so slightly too long to emerge from the steps of the lido pool, timing the late afternoon sun reflecting back off his biceps to perfection.
An over-excitable topless granny, having just caught a glimpse of the slowly emerging gym boy.
A couple of young boys, struggling to reach the on / off switch for the outdoor showers.
A lot of people smiling and laughing.