The first time I remember meeting Donncha Ó hÉallaithe was when I was in my early twenties. I was driving my mother’s car out to Indreabhán and ended up giving him a lift — or a síob as they call it in Cois Fharraige. We spoke in Irish. I’d been brought up with it in the city and I was doing Irish in college and so my Irish was good, but it was no match for the lovely blas that Donncha — a Tipperary native — had.

I left him off around na hAille about a kilometre short of Teach Mór where I was going. I had the dog, an overactive Jack Russell, with me in the car and when Donncha jumped out, so did the dog and scarpered up the road. I did not notice it.

“Tá an gadhair tar éis éalú,” he........

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