Elaine Edwards takes to the waters with a possible ultimate target of taking on the Liffey Descent

The first time you find yourself upside down, hanging from a canoe, in the River Liffey is a pretty disconcerting experience. But the problem with canoeing is that, like so many sports, it's addictive.

Once you've done it, there's no going back - welcome to the great outdoors, to the rush of the river or the roll of the waves, to the adrenaline jitters and the joy of watching wildlife at close quarters.

There's a kick in it you can't know until you've dipped a paddle and swept over your first weir, even if you've never been an outdoor person. And there is, to be honest, a real thrill in taking that first dip and learning how to upright yourself with the aid of just someone else's boat or a deft flick of the hips.

It must be 10 years since I took a short course at the Irish Canoe Union's training centre at the Strawberry Beds near Lucan. And after a recent return to the water with a view to brushing up on my skills and joining a club, I realised I was a much fitter woman then.

Tentatively launching myself into the water in a boat far more technologically advanced than a decade ago (and was it a snug fit or was I also a thinner woman then?), I feel glad to be back. But the three young lads, all sea scouts, who joined me and Irish Canoe Union training and development officer Conor Ryan on a beautiful August evening are off up the river leaving me way behind.

Ryan puts us through our paces with a number of basic strokes. Gingerly, I try them out, forwards, backwards, always conscious of the likelihood of taking an unplanned swim. But also confident that Ryan is keeping a close eye on me. Safety is everything in canoeing, as in any water sport, and everyone who takes one of the ICU's annual summer courses is well drilled.

Three main rules - you should be able to swim, you should have buoyancy both in your boat and in the form of a lifejacket and you should never go out alone. Ryan tells us: "As a general rule, we say 'less than three there should not be'."

Not a few hundred yards up river is the M50 flyover, the rush-hour traffic inaudible as we paddle in pure peace and quiet up and down the Liffey. Those motorists sweltering in their overheating cars don't know the world that's below them and I'm glad I'm not among them.

Our ever-vigilant instructor warns of swans approaching from underneath the flyover. Just paddle slowly to one side of them, so as not to startle them, he says. The fear that they might swoop for our heads is unfounded - they've no interest in us. To them, canoeists are just some hard-shelled creatures they share the river with. Two swans, a male and a female, a cygnet protected between them, sail gracefully past so close you could touch them - if you did want to lose an arm, that is.

One thing I haven't yet tried is a procedure called an X-rescue, where another paddler will come to my aid if I capsize and help me to get myself back up again. I tip myself into the water. It's dark down there, but not quite as cold as I'd remembered. I duly bang on the bottom of my boat to attract the attention of my fellow canoeists and Ryan duly comes to my "rescue". I manage the first bit - grabbing the bow of his boat and hauling myself out of the water. At least partially.

"Come on, where are those dancing hips?" he asks as I cling limpet-like to his boat, partially submerged and partially upright, mouth opening and closing and full of Liffey water. I appear to have left my dancing hips at home and brought my zimmer-frame hips instead. With my rescuer's help, I finally get out and back into my boat.

For Ryan, the appeal of canoeing is simple: "You are being challenged and yet there's a great sense of achievement. In the Liffey, you're seeing Dublin and the river in a new light. You're right in the heart of Dublin and yet you're getting exercise and seeing the wildlife. It's such a great facility which is underused and underdeveloped. When you hear talk about young people and how there's nothing for them to do, the answer is right here."

The greatest challenge for Irish (and indeed, international) paddlers is the Jameson Liffey Descent, the "Grand National" of the canoeing world, which takes place on Saturday September 13th. I might just give it a go.