There was a bit of slime. But mostly decorative more than anything. Some person with foresight had brought up a sieve and a bucket for scooping out any floaters which might decide to invade your personal sploshing area. And even a length of plastic tube had been fashioned to allow you to direct the desired amount of warm vs red hot water around yourself. But NOT, as I’d first thought for washing your hair. Not unless you fancy a dose of fatal amoebic meningitis. ( Apparently, said the mud covered sign by the edge – Hoping that was mud. Either that or some ‘amoebic residue’ left by a previous bather in dirty protest. )
I followed the slime and steam up the hillside to find the source, it’s not very far, although neither impressive or particularly picturesque.
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