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Drowning, not waving — 2 Comments

  1. In Ireland people were sent to one of the CoCo pools. For me that meant a trip to Thurles along with a busload of others who couldn’t swim. And that meant 80% kids and the rest allsorts of ages. Odd looking back on it now given all that went on.
    Anywoos, the same stuff was used to fill the hole for it seemed the fear was the costs of emptying the thing if the bacteria levels began to feaster. But H2O can’t have been all that costly back then, it is Ireland afterall. I too, have issues with puff, I was a martyr to chest infections, 3/4 a year, only lately found I have profound issues with milk. So drawing a full lung whilst in the water was impossible. Nor could I draw in enough at the end to get me across the length.
    I too was an adult before I could swim a length. I learnt in a Victorian pool in Acton, a gorgeous building, half train station half Turkish bathhouse. That I think got a face lift in recent years. It was also the place I darn near drowned too. When the then girlfriend who could swim like a fish wrapped her legs about me expecting me to I don’t know what, but Vince sank like a stone. I didn’t speak to her for a full day afterwards.

  2. Your comment prompted a bout of asthma inducing laughter!

    I wasn’t aware of there being river swimming, complete with lifeguards, in places on the Nore and the Barrow until we moved to Kilkenny

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