The red velvet curtains hung limp. We watched them for a shake. The light has a way of dealing with wrinkles. They looked regal. I wondered if they were ever ironed? Maybe someone passed over them with a steamer. My mind was wandering as we waited at the Marquee in Cork for the arrival of Christy Moore.

We’d come into Cork early and had found parking on Kennedy Quay. We walked through the Marina Market with its multiple food outlets. Tim opted for a steak from Tom Durkan’s Nuaasador. I chose Teriyaki chicken from a different outlet but I ended up with a flavour I didn’t like at all. I presumed I’d made a wrong choice. Tim gave me a few of his tasty spuds, so I didn’t go hungry.

Afterwards, I realised that I should have gone back with the dish, as my understanding of Teriyaki chicken was correct – it is grilled chicken, glazed with a sweet savoury sauce. What I got was cold chicken in something resembling a tartare sauce.

There was probably another disappointed person looking for my dish. We strolled down to the Marquee. We had given ourselves loads of time, just in case I’d get tired and needed to rest. This new me must be factored into everything and it is tiresome. We were in our seats with an hour to spare.

A lovely chat

At a concert like Christy Moore, the people around you are important, because you are packed in tightly. I was sandwiched between Tim and a lovely gentleman, Gerry Moloney, from Bandon. He was with his son Aidan. Early on, I established that Gerry was a dairy farmer and an avid Christy fan. The hour of wait time went quickly by as we chatted to the two men.

We watched people coming and going from the hospitality area. The atmosphere was genial and relaxed and we knew Christy wouldn’t keep us waiting. That generosity of timekeeping by the artist is always appreciated.

Sure enough, a few minutes after 8pm, the curtains swayed gently and Christy, in his traditional black attire, took his seat and picked up his guitar. He was in flying form, telling us it was a special night for him as he had several family members in “and that always makes the gig special”. And, he was off, “on the banks, on the banks, on the beautiful banks of the River Lee. Saturday night we’re packed in tight all together in the big marquee”.

Christy reckons it was 20 years since he played support to Donovan in Cork. He made a point of saluting John Spillane in the audience and singing one of John’s songs, The Ballad of Patrick Murphy. He sang Veronica with feeling, remembering that it was the 30th anniversary of journalist Veronica Guerin’s murder on the Naas Road in broad daylight.

All through the night he referenced other musicians and friends that had sent him songs, including Jimmy McCarthy and Jimmy Crowley. He sang song after song in a full and beautiful voice. At 81, he delivered a concert as good as he did when he was 40 or 50.

He stood for at least three songs and sang them acapella. It was a great gig.

Sure enough, a few minutes after 8pm, the curtains swayed gently and Christy, in his traditional black attire, took his seat and picked up his guitar

Meet up

As we left, we met our own friends Mary and Denis Murphy. We were having a hearty chat when Sean and Mary Clarke and Roy and Theresa O’Brien rocked up. The Murphys and Clarkes were local and the O’Briens were visiting. It was just lovely, we reviewed Christy and marvelled at his ability to keep us all, of an age, enthralled.

The meet up was an added bonus to the night. We strolled together up the leafy Centre Park Road.

Until next year, Christy.