The Danger of Labelling Some Nations More "Sporting" Than Others
There is a cardinal rule I abide by when gymming in Malta: never go after 5pm. Not that big to begin with, the local gym is packed by then, with every machine occupied, and a bike-riding class blasting music and shouts of encouragement on one side. Seeing the gym mainly as a place to relax away from the hectic meeting schedule (and occasionally discreetly gawk at the beautiful women exercising there), I find myself unable to handle its sweaty steaminess on sunny afternoons, just as I struggled in packed rush-hour trains in Japanese summers.