Back when there were public telephone boxes and The Faa Side could afford foreign holidays, we would call these phones in the hope that someone would answer. The odd time somebody would and you’d get chatting to them and the itch was scratched. There’s a beauty to the accent, a haashness. True, it doesn’t have the camp lilt of the Dundalk brogue and it lacks the callous thuggery of a denizen from the axis of evil (Laytown-Bettystown-Mornington) but there’s something about it.