Urban Exploration - The Abandoned Swimming Pool

We received photos from a traveler and compiled them into a historical summary.

For months, I had been under a curse. I was going out scouting for urbex sites and racking up a staggering number of failures. To be more precise, despite the long drives and the motivation, I would hit 11, 12, even 15 dead ends in a row. It was incredibly demoralizing.

One day, under a shy sun, Anthony offered to exorcise me with a remarkably effective voodoo rite: we were going to hit a swimming pool! We headed out together to some scouting points, starting with this one. And what a surprise!

When we arrived, a guy was mowing the lawn right in front. Well, that’s just my luck! I exclaimed that whatever the project, if a truck is going to show up out of nowhere, it’s for me! Regardless, it didn’t matter in the end, as a most pleasant park allowed us to access the pool in the blink of an eye.

This is an abandoned "Sunflower" pool (piscine Tournesol). They all have the same standardized look—save for a few color variations or minor layout tweaks—but from town to town, the pool is ultimately identical. Because of this, you can visit this kind of place in just a few minutes. But what a joy it was!

First, because for those of our generation, we all learned how to swim in these things! Secondly, it marked the beginning of a new cycle. The "jinx" was over. That day, we visited five or six locations (my memory fails me slightly), and the vast majority were a success. This means, among other things, that Anthony successfully broke the spell. I desperately needed it. The rest of the week was an absolute urbex marvel.

This pool is located right in the city, within the perimeter of a nuclear site. This means that almost all of the surroundings are blurred on Google Maps. The pool closed in December 2020 due to a total boiler failure. It was supposed to run for one more year before permanent closure, but it was decided not to replace the boiler just for a few months. This pool served for 44 years.

The vandalism has been terrible; since it’s in the city, things move much faster than in the remote countryside. Nevertheless, it remains a magical little place, bathed in sunlight streaming through the portholes. This time, there were no frogs in the basin, but little lizards basking in the sun. I offer you, in all simplicity, this small moment of happiness in this humble pool. It truly felt good—and thank you, Anthony!