Celebrating St Patrick in Song

St Patrick's Week was marked as ever by music, with the absolute highlight being an impromptu solo in an Irish pub in Whitstable.

The week had begun for me on the Tuesday with a school assembly. I was with Paul and Rory at St John 23rd, a Catholic primary school in White City in London. It's one of the schools with which we hope to develop an inter-generational project, whereby schoolchildren and older Irish living alone are brought together in faith and friendship. A Year 3 class of this wonderful and very multi-cultural school told the story of St Patrick most impressively in word, mime and song. It included St Patrick (played by a young Polish boy!) chasing with his staff after three children who were crawling round on the floor. "What's he doing?" I asked Paul. "Chasing the snakes out of Ireland," he explained!

After Paul had spoken of the work of the Irish Chaplaincy and Rory had taught a few words in Irish, I sang my own setting of 'St Patrick's Breastplate', with the children singing along to the chorus. We chatted afterwards with one of the Deputy Heads, Tom (Bradford Irish!) about various exciting plans for collaboration in the coming months. Another of the Deputy Heads, Sinead, is from Newry and recently met there in Dunnes two of my aunties who her mum knows!

On the Thursday I made a return to HMP Chelmsford where I'd played a few months previously to an enraptured group of Travellers, English Gypsies and even a member of the Roma community. The latter had been particularly engrossed in the music and had seemed fixated on the sight of my Ovation guitar. He told me afterwards how much he had been touched by the singing. I found out later that he is almost completely deaf. When the lovely Sr P had contacted me to ask if I could join them for their St Patrick's event she'd said, "Some of the guys were asking, 'Is the guitar man coming?'". "You bet he is," I'd replied.

On Friday, the big day itself, our Gerry was saying Mass in the Old Chapel at the Irish Centre and I was providing the music which included another rendition of 'St Patrick's Breastplate', as well as 'Be Thou my Vision' and 'Hail Glorious St Patrick.' And then it was down to The Hub where we'd promised everyone a cup of tea and a few songs from me. The place was fairly heaving with people arriving for the tea dance in the McNamara Hall, and The Hub itself was packed with those who hadn't managed to get tickets and some young families too. I was pleased to spot Kathleen and Bernard who I know well from Willie Moone's musical sessions in the Kennedy Hall. I took up position next to Kathleen and went for it. I have to say, I was on pretty good form! Even if I was background noise for some, there were others who were singing along to the likes of 'The Black Velvet Band' and other popular classics, and 'The Fields of Athenry' seemed to go down particularly well. One woman stood and filmed me on her phone and was visibly moved, and as a performer, that kind of reaction means the world to you.

I was feeling pretty wacked after all the excitement of the week, which had also included a rehearsal with my usual choir on the Tuesday (Mozart's Requiem), then a final rehearsal with my other choir on the Wednesday evening, and the actual performance on the Thursday in Canterbury Cathedral of Schubert's 'Mass in G'. I got home on the Friday from London with only a few minutes to spare before we had to go out again to get a bus to Whitstable. It was a meet up of some of the guys from the Cycling Club plus spouses, and Yim Soon had bought a new green dress for the occasion! We just made it onto the bus, where Nick and Catherine were waiting for us, and on arrival at Whitstable we strolled along the sea-front to The Old Neptune, which describes itself, quite accurately, as 'The pub ON the beach'.

It was only 6.30 when we arrived but it was already thronged with people. The excellent 3-piece were knocking out all of the old Irish classics on fiddle, accordion and guitar, and there was a fair old wait at the bar before we could order the first round of Guinness (the first of many…). There was free bacon and cabbage until 7 p.m. and Conor arrived just in time to get the fifth and last plate from the kitchen. We sat outside on a picnic bench as the sun went down over Whitstable Bay and we ate and we drank and we talked. And we were joined then by Roy, just before going back inside for the band's second set. As they launched into The Dubliners' infamous 'Seven Drunken Nights' a woman in a Kerry top marched up to the mic and said, "No, no, no, that's not how you do it; this is how you do it." The band let her take over and she did a fine job (although she missed out Saturday and Sunday!). In the interval that followed, and emboldened by the Seven Drunken Nights woman, I asked Jack on guitar if I could do a song. He was glad to let me and invited me to start the third set. I sat on the tall bar stool with Jack's guitar and I explained that it was a favourite song of my mum, who had died a couple of months earlier; and added that it was the all-time favourite song of my wife. And I sang 'When you were Sweet 16.' And it was the musical cherry on the icing on the cake of a very special and very musical St Patrick's Week.

PS There was more good banter the morning after (as well as some sore heads) on our 'St Patrick and the cyclists' WhatsApp group that Conor had set up for the event, including a comment from him: "What an absolutely lovely evening. Here's some photos, including our balladeer on a bike…"