As for the Rose festival itself the TV programmes are as naff as ever but the opening night Ball event in the flesh is actually quite fun and funky. It’s cringe worthy to have to watch the girls play their musical instruments like performing circus animals, retell how they met their boyfriends, how much they love their mammies and daddies and their plans for world peace.

But having said that I felt sorry for the Cork Rose, Niamh O’Hanlon, not winning. I met her mother and sister in Tralee and they were so proud of her. She had been tipped as favourite all week long and to have to carry that monkey around on her back for a week must have been tough only to be beaten by a stunning looking girl from Tipperary. How and ever, I saw all the girls in action on Friday and Saturday last in Tralee and they were having the time of their lives. Women love clothes, hair-do’s, make-up, bags, shoes, jewellery. They love to be pampered and made feel special.

This is what happened to each and every World Rose contestant and who am I to sneer at that. For the first time in my life (even though I still cringe at the TV show) I realised that to the girls, their families and their own little or big part of the world the Rose of Tralee is the biggest moment of their lives and do you know what? They are welcome and entitled to it.

I wish the 50th Rose of Tralee the best of luck next year - maybe it will be the one that will catapult it back onto an international stage and to its former glory times when Tralee was thronged with visitors to the festival.  And no I’m not angling for Darcy’s gig - I couldn’t do it for all the money in the world…..

Now maybe I could also have the same  Damascan conversion about the damn Eurovision, although I doubt it.

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