The suburb next to ours is called Sandsborg. It has a swimming pool for the elderly and disabled, water 30 degrees C, lots of equipment for crocks like me, staffed by people who can get you in and out of the water, and charging just 70 kronor (about £6) for a single visit. The pool is part of an attractive complex of small flats (for oldies who don’t have Kajsas to live with), with little squares and gardens, a supermarket, cafes, a library, a gym, an Apotek, a doctor and a dentist, a sauna, and a Tunnelbana station nearby; all provided by the local municipality. Here are some pics of the pool.

https://motionera.stockholm/trana-gymma-simma/sandsborgsbadet/

I was there today, hoping the warm water would soothe my ankle. I broke it, incidentally, forty-odd years ago, getting off a plane at Chicago O’Hare Airport. Have I told you the story? About how an employee of the airport rushed to my aid; her first question was ‘can I get you a lawyer?’ – not ‘can I get you a doctor?’  Yes; I’m in America, I thought. Anyhow, a charity hospital in Bloomington (I think) repaired the ankle, but warned me that when I got old, that was where arthritis would strike. It has.

All this – the Sandsborg complex – is a wonderful example of post-war Swedish social democracy. The ‘nanny state’, some in Britain would call it. But most Swedes don’t mind paying high-ish taxes if they can be nannied when they need it.

Next week I’m being assessed for a possible op on the ankle. (The cartilage has gone.) Then I’ll know how well the hospitals work here. Wish me luck.