Irish Accent Lunacy floods the Liffey slime By John Corry	フレームで見る  英文をプリントする  脚注をプリントする
奇人たちの水泳大会 筆者は先日、ダブリン市内の中心部を流れるリフィ川で毎年行なわれる水泳大会を見物してきました。80年以上の歴史を持つ伝統的なこのレースは、工場わきを流れる汚くてくさい川に飛び込んで泳ぐというもので、今年も250人が参加しました。

A gentle form of lunacy finds an expression in weird and wonderful ways in many cultures. To many, running with bulls in Pamplona or the tomato-throwing festival in Bunol are clear signs of mental aberration of the nicest kind. For others, such events are celebrations to be embraced for their distinctiveness.

For me, the tradition of the Liffey Swim in Ireland has always appeared to be no more than a bunch of loonies risking their health in a dirty river. Recently, I went with an open mind to watch the 250 men and women taking part in the 83rd Toyota Liffey Swim to see if my perspective was as unbalanced as I believed the swimmers to be.

Clodagh Nolan, 42, swam the race for the first time when she was pregnant and has returned every year since. She feels the Liffey race is a festive occasion. "It's a special race, a real spectator's race with people on both side of the river able to see all of it," Nolan said.

Every September, swimmers like Nolan gather for the Toyota Liffey Swim: a tough race of just under 2 km, passing under 13 bridges. It is certainly the outdoor swimming event in Ireland. For the participants, generally committed (or certifiable) sea racers, the Liffey Swim is the high point of the outdoor swimming calendar. This year some swimmers from France and the United States had traveled to Dublin just to take part.

But Liffey is no ordinary river to the people of Dublin. It is the capital's most famous river, flowing through the heart of the city and along the flank of Guinness's vast factory site. Among Dubliners, it is renowned for two main characteristics: its color, a foul green hue - the result of years of pollution and unchecked algae growth - and its smell, which can at best be called distinctive and at worst, stinking.

It is therefore shocking to the average Dubliner that there are Irish people who relish the idea of swimming in the Liffey's murky depths. James McAdam, 14, one of the youngest competitors in the men's race this year, said after the race, "The river is not really as dirty as people think. On the day of the race they flush out the reservoir so the flow of the river is stronger and cleaner."

The race starts from a barge in the river just below Guinness's factory. The slowest swimmers are allowed to leave first and some time is allowed before the official start for the rest of the swimmers is called.

This year the honor of starting the men's race was given to 71-year-old Jim Gormley, the oldest man in the race, who kept the lead for an impressive five minutes. Watching him dive into the chilly current, most of the spectators doubted that he would be collecting his pension for much longer.

The fastest man and woman from the qualifying races wear blue caps and are the last to leave the barge. They must try to overtake all the swimmers in front and touch the barge at the finish of the race in front of the city's Custom House. Surprisingly, the men's race was won by 59-year-old veteran Paschal Russell.

As the blue-tinged bodies of the swimmers emerge at the finish of the race, the services of the Dublin Fire Brigade are enlisted to deal with any potentially harmful effects of the water. Firemen set up the famous "Decontamination Unit" where the "survivors" of the race are hosed down. Whatever lurks in the grimy depths of the Liffey is soon blasted off. Families and friends rush in with towels, hot drinks and congratulations, and the warm sense of bonhomie in the air is palpable.

In the end I understand the racers' motivations better, admire their perseverance and endurance, but still believe that they are loonies, albeit very nice loonies.

The event is very enjoyable from a spectator's point of view, but it will be a very long time before I would even dip my big toe into the green, grimy waters of the Liffey.

Shukan ST: Oct. 4, 2002

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