"A swimming hole?" Kate asks, her nose wrinkling. "With like, mud and frogs and fish and slimy shit like that?" She had sort of roughed it on the island for a few years, sure, but even then she had insisted on living in the Compound until plumbing and electricity had been introduced to the huts. There was no way she could ever be the kind of person to get along without a working toilet and shower.

A swimming hole sort of sounds like camping. "What about a swimming pool?" she suggests. "I would totally go there and get little drinks with umbrellas in them."