The Blogger Goes for a Swim- French Style

I’ve mentioned the swimming pool next to INSEAD in a previous blog post, but last weekend I finally broke down, pulled out my skimpy thong-style Speedo swimsuit and went for a swim at the ambitiously named “Stade Nautique de la Faisanderie”. The chart you see above resembles the process flow charts studied in our Operations Management class, and is displayed prominently at the pool entrance. Of particular interest is the last caption where the boy eats his sandwich and remarks, “J’ai passe un agréable moment en respectant les règles d’hygiène et de sécurité.” (“I had a good time in respecting the hygiene and security rules.”) This mantra sums up the bizarre philosophy of the swimming pool management, who in their zeal to create an efficient pool have managed to diminish the user experience, by eliminating convenience and fun.

After paying admission and buying an obligatory bathing cap, swimmers are forced into a unisex change room after passing through an antiseptic foot bath. No benches or counters are present in the changeroom, to eliminate the risk of losing belongings or having them stolen. Individual change booths are provided for dressing, but there is no private same-gender space to engage in locker room chatter. The emphasis here is on efficiency– get in, change into your swimsuit, and get out.

I’m told that many swimming pools in Europe follow this strange model, which in my opinion robs customers of the whole experience. There are no free towels, no convenient place to hang your coat or relax. I remember the gym I went to before I came to INSEAD. The facilities were just as good, but everyone seemed more chill. A group of Russian pensioners used to do vodka shots by the pool, every Saturday afternoon, after their swim. The whole point of going to a swimming pool is to escape from the everyday grind and misbehave. Kids love to run on the pool deck, scream, dive into the pool cannonball style, engage in towel fights, make floods in the change room etc.

Men and women seek kinship in the locker room, seeing others naked and in being exposed to a wide range of body types. It’s not an erotic experience, but rather an opportunity where you can learn to feel comfortable about yourself. As my youth disappears, I find myself checking out the bodies of older men– looking for the sags, wrinkles, and grotesque scars which in time will visit me too. But enough of my strange nostalgia.

I am amazed how water parks have recognized that customer willingness to pay is enhanced by emphasizing the fun of the customer experience, while swimming pools like the Stade Nautique de la Faisanderie blindly assume that swimming in an inherently fun activity for which customers will pay, regardless of how bureaucratic they make the experience. I still might return to the pool, but only because I would like to amortize the cost of the bathing cap I purchased, in order to see its Cost per Visit come down.