Most people in Ireland were brought up on trad music and knew the difference between a jig and a reel by the time they were old enough to be sneaking whiskey from behind their father’s backs.

Me? Not so much. My parents were big jazz and blues (Dad) and rock (Mam) fans. I knew all the words to Cole Porter’s Songbook by the time I was 15, but only some of the reasons Dicey Reilly had taken to the sup, or why there were fiddlers on the green.

In fact, with all the ignorance of a westbrit (yeah I said it, doesn’t mean you can!), I used to mock trad as sure beggorrah and bejaysus music for culchies.

My partner (proud culchie and constant source of Irish historical information) is one of those who grew up with Irish music - her mother sang and played the accordian. As a result I’ve been educated in the ways of (ie. forced to listen to) trad.

Now, coughcough years later I have all the passion of a convert. Well as much as I can manage being a lazy fecker. I’m the one one shouting “Yow!” in the pub. Seriously, from a good thigh-slapping session to the more sober concerts of the likes of The Cheftains (musical gods), I really enjoy it.

So, recently the little lady and I decided to go to Doolin, the self-proclaimed “Home of Irish Music”. The week we went the World Fleadh was on. In Laois. Eejits….

Anyway, there are 4 musical establishments in Doolin. McDermott’s, McGann’s, The Magnetic Cafe and Gus O’Connor’s.

On our first day, Sunday, we headed to McDermott’s to watch the GAA (another recently-realised love). After the matches, which were shite, we stayed on to comment and show each other just how knowledgeable we are with loads of pints on us. The music was to start at 9.30pm, but a band started to set up at around 6.30. Sound, we thought, we’ll just stay and have the craic.

The band were excellent. As usual at these sessions, there was a youngster playing an instrument with such ease it would bring a tear to your eye. it’s always great to see young people carrying on the traditions.

She was fiddling like she’d never fiddled before (f’narr) and I was slapping my thigh good-style. However, there was this bloke in the band. Total diva!! Everytime people would ignore his fantastic playing (he was good in fairness), he’d leave the stage. At one stage, he threw his bow over his head onto a shelf. Hilarious!!! Get over yourself, for god’s sake.

It turned out that the music at 9.30 was a repeat of this band. I have to say I was disappointed. We stayed to see the ‘music’ but just got a rehash of Diva and Devine Fidddler.

Next night, we realised that we’d missed the session in the Magnetic Cafe and there wouldn’t be another one until the day we were leaving. Great.

We tried Gus O’Connor’s where there was a band complete with uilleann pipes but you couldn’t hear them for the tourists chatting and grimacing over their must-have pint of Guinness.

The following evening off we trotted to McGann’s. Heaven. Fabulous Guinness, creamy and not too malty, cold and not too heavy. Great music, complete with youngster playing like an expert. This time it was the sqeeziebox, which I’m sure has a real name but my knowledge is limited as you may have noticed.

The music in McGann’s was excellent and the crowd attentive. Then it happened as it does in irish pubs. We got chatting to tourists. Two lovely women from America, who were great company. Between us, we didn’t know how to shut them up so we could listen to the music. Seriously? “Hi…yeah….really….great….can you shut up?”

So we linked each other and swayed back to our B&B after yet another night in search of music that seemed just out of reach. Maybe it was all in Laois.