Clontarf baths

Rosita Boland takes a dip in the beautiful seawater pool, previously accessible only to club members.

This month’s opening of the pool to the general public is a trial. And it is a proper swim, no bumping into anyone, and the blue, blue sky above. The tide is out at Clontarf when I am there, but it’s permanently in at the Clontarf Baths. I ask Nolan if there is a clock on site, so swimmers can know when their two hours are coming to an end. I am sure the parent of every child there is grateful for her vigilance. I get into the 21.5-degree seawater, and it is glorious. My office is temporarily the pool. A large section is cordoned off for people swimming lanes (from really quite slowly to human-dolphin speed); the rest is for everyone not swimming lanes. This is not the beach, after all. There are a few sheltered cabana-type structures, and a few picnic tables scattered about, but most people are just sitting on the towels they brought with them, on the concrete. The Blackrock Baths, the Dún Laoghaire Baths, the Clontarf Baths. Public open-air swimming pools, at least in Britain, are usually known as lidos, but “baths” is what seems to have stuck in the Irish vernacular.