Above water | With champagne and a joint in the children's pool

The TV tower gleams silver. Not a single star is visible, just a few illuminated windows in the high-rise buildings and the casino at Alexanderplatz. The lanterns on the banks of the Spree twinkle through the trees. There's a splash as Ingo whips his feet through the shallow water. I slide into the large pool and swim. Every time I surface, I hear Antje laughing. Once, Uta does too, and Ingo chitters like a goat, then splashes again. After a few laps, I join the others in the shallow pool. There's still some champagne left and a drag on my joint.

Last Saturday, as I was about to head out to Müggelsee, I checked the rain radar, the BVG app, and the water quality. No rain was forecast, but I was facing a two-hour journey via Tempelhof, including replacement transport. Furthermore, severe torrential rain might have washed sewage into the water. A change of direction. Forty minutes later, I'm standing at the Pankow summer pool , black clouds gathering over lush green lawns. Staff are relaxed, checking ID and bags, at the ticket counter, and in the pools. There are fewer bathers than employees; they stand together in small groups, chatting.

The terraced area along the large pool is brand new and spacious, as are the showers and changing rooms. I affixed a padlock, waved to the green oak grasshopper on the cubicle wall, and off we go. The 50-meter pool is divided by a rope; four of us swim in a circle, with a faster swimmer in the middle. The water is a pleasant temperature. When I'm finished, I stroll over to the adventure pool. In front of it is the diving pool with its 7.5-meter-high diving platform. What once seemed like a vast lake has now been transformed into curved pools with shiny metallic slides and water cannons. I do a few laps of dolphin swimming in the shoulder-high water. The lazy river and mushroom slide aren't running, only the occasional screaming boy lands in the pool from the wide slide. I lie down on the bubble loungers in the shallow water and close my eyes. It's getting dark.

There's a splash, someone giggles. My eyes widen and I find myself in my mid-twenties, lying naked in the toddler pool at Mombis . A bottle of champagne is next to me, my friends are lounging around, enjoying the summer night. My feet are tingling; we just danced for hours in the new basement club at Tacheles. After that, we must have walked down Oranienburger Straße with a few bottles of champagne and dipped into the children's pool in Monbijou Park again. I learned in my art history seminar that there used to be a Rococo palace here in central Berlin, and I'll probably sleep through the rest of the story in a few hours. I stretch out and float on the shallow water, the bass of the basement techno still ringing in my ears.

When I feel cold, I stand up. It's dark over Pankow, the first drops are falling into the pool, which seems as smooth as a lake. I wade ashore, wrap myself in my towel, and hurry up the terraces like a young girl, toward the hot shower.