I am currently in Dublin.
I'm sharing a city centre hotel with a large number of Swedes who came over for last night's World Cup qualifier against Ireland. (Sweden won 2-1.)
Watching the game on television I marvelled at RTE's lugubrious trio of pundits – John Giles, Eamonn Dunphy and Liam Brady – whose cheerless comments are a world away from the bland observations served up by their younger counterparts on Match Of The Day.
I met Dunphy once. We were guests on the Richard Littlejohn Show on Sky News the night before the smoking ban was introduced in Ireland.
The programme was broadcast live from the bar of the Shelbourne Hotel in Dublin. Dunphy, a smoker, was opposed to the ban.
I was interested to meet him because we had thought about asking him to be the figurehead for a campaign against the ban but I was told it wasn't a good idea.
Many saw him as a cantankerous curmudgeon, out of tune with Ireland's brave new world.
Last night, commenting on the football, Dunphy was as forthright and acerbic as ever. Although the grumpy old men routine is a bit tired (they've been doing it for years), I suspect it reflects the mood of the nation far more than it did ten years ago.
Perhaps it's not too late to ask ...
Great article on Spiked this week:
The fag-end of Irish politics. Worth reading.
Hardly a day goes by without another report of illicit cigarettes being smuggled into Ireland.
The loss of revenue to the Government is huge yet this week the Irish Cancer Society and the Irish Heart Foundation urged the Government to add 60 cents to the price of a packet of cigarettes.
They just don't get it, do they?
Arriving at Dublin Airport on Thursday I approached the immigration officer with my passport:
Me: Hello.
Immigration Officer: How yer doing?
Me: Fine.
Immigration Officer: Yer looking great.
Me: Oh, thanks! [Laughs]
I received an equally friendly greeting when I flew into San Francisco a few weeks ago.
Ditto when I arrived in Cuba in February, although it may have helped that we paid to be fast-tracked past a long line of less gruntled passengers.
Compare that to the 'welcome' you receive when entering (or re-entering) the UK.
Stony-faced border control officers rarely utter a word and I can't remember one ever cracking a smile.
They look at you only to check that your face is the same as the photo in your passport.
Frankly, it's embarrassing.