THIS VISIT I USED A SONY A7RVI RTHER THAN THE FUJIFILM GFX100RF
My Follow-Up Visit to Corbally Open-Air Baths in October 2026
Following an underwhelming trip in 2025, returning to the derelict Corbally Baths was at the very top of my photography itinerary. For this visit, I decided to switch camera bodies, leaving the medium-format Fujifilm GFX 100 at home in favour of the Sony A7R VI—a kit far better suited to handheld exploring through uneven ground, encroaching briars, and riverbank terrain.
The autumn light and clear skies were a marked improvement over the conditions during my previous outing, giving the concrete structures and rusted ironwork sharper contrast and allowing the camera's sensor to pull exceptional texture from the weathered surfaces. Yet despite the brighter conditions, time continues to stand still at the site. The decaying slipways, tidal channels, and crumbling concrete footings remain in essentially the same state of abandonment they have inhabited for years, untouched by any restoration or safety works.
What felt particularly uncanny on this crisp October afternoon was the utter stillness along the route. Walking the stretch between Mill Road and Athlunkard Bridge, I did not cross paths with a single soul—an eerie contrast to the lively history of a facility that once served as a bustling social and sporting hub for generations of Limerick swimmers.
What Has Changed Since July 2025?
On the ground, virtually nothing has altered physically. While local heritage advocates and river enthusiasts continue to discuss potential integration into wider greenway and active-travel routes along the Shannon, the site remains formally derelict. Seasonal briars and bankside vegetation continue to claim the structural edges, and no municipal stabilisation or public-realm intervention has commenced on the baths themselves.
Following an underwhelming trip in 2025, returning to the derelict Corbally Baths was at the very top of my photography itinerary. For this visit, I decided to switch camera bodies, leaving the medium-format Fujifilm GFX 100 at home in favour of the Sony A7R VI—a kit far better suited to handheld exploring through uneven ground, encroaching briars, and riverbank terrain.
The autumn light and clear skies were a marked improvement over the conditions during my previous outing, giving the concrete structures and rusted ironwork sharper contrast and allowing the camera's sensor to pull exceptional texture from the weathered surfaces. Yet despite the brighter conditions, time continues to stand still at the site. The decaying slipways, tidal channels, and crumbling concrete footings remain in essentially the same state of abandonment they have inhabited for years, untouched by any restoration or safety works.
What felt particularly uncanny on this crisp October afternoon was the utter stillness along the route. Walking the stretch between Mill Road and Athlunkard Bridge, I did not cross paths with a single soul—an eerie contrast to the lively history of a facility that once served as a bustling social and sporting hub for generations of Limerick swimmers.
What Has Changed Since July 2025?
On the ground, virtually nothing has altered physically. While local heritage advocates and river enthusiasts continue to discuss potential integration into wider greenway and active-travel routes along the Shannon, the site remains formally derelict. Seasonal briars and bankside vegetation continue to claim the structural edges, and no municipal stabilisation or public-realm intervention has commenced on the baths themselves.
CORBALLY BATHS