by Jane Prinsep

Created on: August 27, 2009   Last Updated: October 11, 2009

The little beach at Villeneuve is a shallow-sloping, pebbly crescent, fringed with weeping willows and embracing the now-glittering warm waters of Lac Leman. Away from the shoreline, a low wall separates those who are in mellow-mode, happy to wallow in the water or read in the dappled shade, from those who thrive on "feeling the burn" in any number of ways; running, cycling, roller-blading or power-walking. A little play area with picnic tables is tucked neatly and conveniently behind the path. The beach overlooks the "Golden Rose" of Lac Leman; Montreux, a place that is bathed daily in the powerful afternoon sunlight that summer in this micro-climate brings, turning the windows of the town into mirrors of bronze-coloured fire. This height-defying mountainside was, and still is, home to princes, millionaires, crooks, rock stars, statesmen, composers, sportsmen, entrepreneurs, artists and paupers.

It is on this little beach of ours that I feel I have found paradise. I am not alone in my thinking. My daughter has discovered true joy in floating for hours in the cool shallows, with her other "water-baby" friends, in giant, luminous, inflatable, rubber rings. They chat, shout, scream, play, invent, tussle and splash for what seems like an eternity. I usually have to coax her out of the water as the sun begins to set, as her teeth start to chatter and as her fingers and toes are a mass of watery wrinkles. Only promises of a cool drink, a hot shower and a slice of toast will do the trick.

On Tuesday morning, we meet with two of my best friends and their children and set up a patchwork of blankets and towels on the grass. Flasks of coffee poured, crisps and cookies distributed, sunscreen administered, our respective needs are met. The heat of the morning is already a sizzling promise of the oppressive afternoon heat that lies ahead, so a relatively early rendezvous feels like a good decision.

The fusion of life's soundwaves carry gently on the warm breeze; delighted children playing watery games, mothers gossiping and complaining of sleep-deprivation, teenage boys making mischief on the diving boards, snippets of conversation caught from lycra-clad, paired cyclists as they power on by, infants watching their elder siblings with envy from their pushchairs, gurgling and chattering, trying out new-found voices.

It is time for a swim. Upon first tentative "toe-dipping" exploration, entry into the lake can prove breath-taking! But after what is now feeling like the longest

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