Kathriona Devereux: ‘I vowed to stay dry...wet monkey bars put an end to that’

Last week, I found myself sitting in a bright orange rib, packed hip to hip with neoprene-wrapped strangers. The excitement was high. Half of the passengers were under-18, hyped about the fun that lay ahead. The other half were their reluctant 40-something-year-old parents uncomfortably sucked into too tight wetsuits, trepidatious about what was about to happen on the inflatable waterpark floating just next to the N71.

Friends and families waved goodbye from the stable and dry pontoon as the boat made the short spin to the inflatable obstacle course. The safety briefing was brief. Something about not deliberately jumping off certain sections, the “hamster wheel” being out of bounds because of high winds and an instruction to cross your arms going down the 9-meter tall “iceberg” slide. Also “don’t push anyone in who doesn’t want to be pushed in” - a motto to live by in general.

A woman sitting next to me was in a fine state of dread. This was an annual tradition with her kids, so she knew in her immediate future lay the indignity of being dragged sodden from the water by her lifejacket after a dramatic dunking. Some parents warned their kids to “take it easy” while assuring each other “it’ll be fine”.

If you enjoy a bit of slapstick comedy, there really is nothing funnier than watching fully grown adults slipping on their arses and tipping ungracefully into a body of water. It’s the ludicrousness of the situation that had me weeping with laughter. We’d paid for, and consented, to the experience of being smashed into the lagoon, of slipping down stomach sinking slides and watching our children do the same.

I vowed to try and stay dry, to skip like a baby goat around the course without submerging in seawater. Well, wet monkey bars soon put an end to those notions. I was like one of those poor mams in Ireland’s Fittest Family who forgot to practice the Hang Tough part of the course and end up underwater immediately.

A part of the waterpark has a giant floating “pillow”. One person sits on the front of it and another person jumps on the back, forcefully launching both into the air, and then into the water. Some dunks elicit a collective wince and groan from everyone watching, but mostly everyone is just laughing at how preposterous the whole exercise is.

This was our second year doing The Lagoon. It took me a few days for the muscle tenderness (aka minor whiplash) to abate afterwards last year, so I decided to skip the high-speed impact from sliding down the “iceberg” and instead hoot at all the mad yokes doing it with gusto.

Along the edge of the lagoon, sensible friends and family who didn’t fancy energetically exhausting themselves skitted and videoed the shenanigans. Really, entertainment for the whole family - even those not participating.

Back on the rib after the session, everyone was smiling ear to ear, adrenaline coursed through their bodies, buzzed to do it again. Parents remarked it was “surprisingly fun” and assured their kids they’d be back next year.

Is there a funnier and more entertaining summer family day out than a trip to Rosscarbery’s waterpark at The Lagoon? I don’t think so!

All roads lead to Croker

Speaking of top summer days out, in our house we are most looking forward to our trip to Croke Park next Sunday to support the girls in red as they take on Galway in the All-Ireland Camogie Final.

The past two summers I have escorted crying, disappointed children from the big screen All-Ireland viewing events at Páirc Uí Chaoimh as the men’s team failed to clear the final hurdle. The only comfort I take from those disappointments is they are good childhood lessons in resilience. To go from enjoying the pre-match jubilation of waving flags and cheering the team, and a mere 70 minutes later, have your hopes entirely dashed by a rallying Tipperary or unrelenting Clare team is hard. I’m hoping the Cork camogie team can deliver the euphoria of victory we yearn for. We know a Cork win won’t recreate Mayo mania levels of excitement (I mean Cork camogie teams have won the most All-Ireland camogie titles - including 11 wins since 2022) but it would still be a special summer memory for my kids to see Cork captain and Barr’s woman Méabh Cahalane lift the O’Duffy Cup on the Hogan Stand with Micheál Martin and President Catherine Connolly smiling behind her.

The one-point victory over County Down was the last Cork All-Ireland final victory I witnessed in Croke Park back in 2010. I was also at the 2013 hurling final that resulted in a draw with Clare. My nervous system has never fully recovered from the stress of that match, so I’m really hoping the big occasion in Croke Park this Sunday won’t be as stressful.

Given that this is Cork’s sixth successive All-Ireland camogie final and Galway only beat Cork last year by a point, I suspect it won’t be a Zen-like affair - and that’s half the fun.

I’ll fully admit I’m a total bandwagon jumper, but I’m genuinely excited at supporting the camogie team who have proved themselves national exemplars time and again. And, unlike the men’s All-Ireland hurling final, getting a ticket doesn’t involve pleading and begging to all your GAA contacts or standing forlornly outside the Gresham Hotel on O’Connell Street.

So, for another fun summer day out - see you at Croker!