Kingscourt

We had finished filming for that day and only had a few things to pick up on next morning so we had decided to have a slight change of scenery. The crew and I had gone by taxi to the nearby town of Carrickmacross to have an evening meal in a rather nice hotel.

On the way back I found myself sitting up front beside the driver. That's where the person who's expected to pay usually sits.

The crew were having a debate about the relative merits of steak and fish dishes among themselves in the back seats, while I engaged the driver in polite conversation about the weather, the economy, the weather, the traffic and the weather.

Eventually the driver picked up on who we were and what we were doing in this part of the country.

"Oh, you're that crowd that's down here from Ulster Television, isn't that right?"

"That's us," I admitted, glad to be off the subject of the weather for a bit.

"And you're making that programme about the countryside, is that the one you do?"

"That's right," I said, "Lesser Spotted Ulster."

"That's the one. Sure I love that programme."

"Thank you."

"I do. I love it. I never miss it."

"Good for you."

"And what do you call it again?"

"Lesser Spotted Ulster."

"I can never remember the name."

"No, it's hard to remember."

It went quiet for a while.

"So which one of you is Lester?"