{"id":6989,"date":"2021-06-06T11:19:11","date_gmt":"2021-06-06T11:19:11","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thebaths.org\/?page_id=6989"},"modified":"2021-06-24T17:34:33","modified_gmt":"2021-06-24T17:34:33","slug":"louise-newman","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/thebaths.org\/index.php\/louise-newman\/","title":{"rendered":"Louise Newman"},"content":{"rendered":"

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Summer weekends when it did not rain my Dad would load me and my friends into the back of his Hillman Hunter and we would head for Blackrock Baths. We squashed in together with our togs and rubber swimming hats, the chin straps dangling from the tightly rolled up towels, firmly under our elbows. A melody of chatter and glee wafting out the open windows.<\/span><\/h1>[\/vc_column][vc_column width=”5\/12″]
Recollections of Blackrock Baths <\/span><\/span><\/div>
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My Dad would hardly have the car in park as we clambered out and ran for the pay stalls. Before we even reached the gate the glorious smell of chlorine and salt water welcomed our eager happy little hearts.
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Straight to the wet changing cubicles we would run, the white washed walls and wooden floormats the last obstacle to the joy of our water world. I usually would be the first out of the gate.
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My darling Dad would be sitting on the tiered steps, sometimes in his suit and tie (it was the early 70s after all). Out I would slide on the wet cement around the pools edge, running up to the shallow end where I could sit and wait for my pals to join me.
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The first place all eyes would turn was the high diving platform which towered above the pool like a landing pad. Underneath was the lower one where most of us jumped off at one time or another. Only the really brave and super humans dived off the top.
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When our little gang had gathered our voices joined the orchestra of screams, laughter, chatter and whoops of glee. We dunked ourselves into the murky green water. I don\u2019t think I ever saw the bottom. In my memory it was a glorious pea soup filled with colourful bobbing hats and boys!
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Yes a big part of our excitement was picking out the boys we liked, never really intending to chat but it made our day at the baths something to talk about later and part of the lure. We would swim and frolic and time disappeared.
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Eventually when I could not avoid my Dad anymore I would look to the stand and the big wave that signalled time to go home would be given. Out we would climb, teeth chattering, fingers wrinkling, pickled in chlorine with hearts full and huge smiles on our purple lips.
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We now could look forward to the 99 cone and a hot bath.
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<\/div>[vc_column_text text_style=”subtitle”]Story and Photographs: Louise Newman
\nStillorgan, Co. Dublin<\/span>[\/vc_column_text][\/vc_column][vc_column width=”1\/6″ tablet_width=”1-6″ mobile_width=”hide”][\/vc_column][vc_column mobile_width=”hide”]
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[vc_row padding_top_multiplier=”custom” padding_bottom_multiplier=”2x” padding_top=”4%”][vc_column width=”7\/12″][\/vc_column][vc_column width=”5\/12″][\/vc_column][\/vc_row][vc_row padding_top_multiplier=”” padding_bottom_multiplier=”” rc_heading_color=”light” rc_bg_type=”color” mobile_columns_vertical_gap=”none” separator_bottom_size=”40%” rc_font_color=”#ffffff” rc_bg_color=”#3f5175″][vc_column width=”1\/6″][\/vc_column][vc_column width=”2\/3″][\/vc_column][vc_column width=”1\/6″][\/vc_column][\/vc_row][vc_row padding_top_multiplier=”2x” padding_bottom_multiplier=”3x” separator_top=”line-separator” separator_top_size=”60%” separator_top_color=”#f6f7fc” separator_bottom_size=”40%” separator_bottom_color=”#f6f7fc”][vc_column width=”1\/6″ tablet_width=”1-6″ mobile_width=”hide”][\/vc_column][vc_column width=”2\/3″ content_width=”70″ horizontal_content_position=”center” text_align=”center” tablet_width=”2-3″ mobile_content_width=”reset”][vc_column_text text_style=”subtitle”]Story and Photographs: Louise Newman Stillorgan, Co. Dublin[\/vc_column_text][\/vc_column][vc_column width=”1\/6″ tablet_width=”1-6″ mobile_width=”hide”][\/vc_column][vc_column mobile_width=”hide”][\/vc_column][vc_column][\/vc_column][\/vc_row]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-6989","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thebaths.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/6989","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thebaths.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thebaths.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thebaths.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thebaths.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=6989"}],"version-history":[{"count":24,"href":"https:\/\/thebaths.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/6989\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":7875,"href":"https:\/\/thebaths.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/6989\/revisions\/7875"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thebaths.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=6989"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}