As we take our seats in a quiet reception lounge in Dublin’s Dylan Hotel, Hot Press assures TV presenter Kathryn Thomas that this won’t be one of those interviews in which she’ll be asked if she’s planning on tying the knot with her Garda boyfriend, Enda Waters, anytime soon.

“Well, thank God for that!” the beautiful Carlow native laughs, approvingly raising her glass of sparkling Ballygowan. “That’ll be a first!”
It’s not surprising that the Irish media have tended to concentrate on Thomas’s personal life. Now 33, she has more or less grown up on national television, leading many viewers to feel that they know her personally. The quintessential Celtic female, she has a bright, bubbly, girl-next-door type of personality. Many an Irish mammy would be very happy to see her getting hitched and settling down. Especially with a Garda.
Thomas’ first break into TV came at the tender age of 19, when she co-presented youth sports show Rapid with Dublin GAA star Jason Sherlock. Next, she worked on the hugely popular travel show, No Frontiers, which saw her traversing the planet for a full decade, covering stories from all corners of the world – and ultimately penning a bestselling book, Off The Beaten Track, about her experiences.
The recession put an end to No Frontiers in 2008, but Thomas was soon back on RTÉ screens as co-host, with Aidan Power, of clap-happy lottery show Winning Streak: Dream Ticket. From 2009 until last Christmas, she co-presented Winning Streak with Marty Whelan.
In 2011, she became the new presenter of Operation Transformation on RTÉ One, impressively taking over from the late Gerry Ryan. More recently, she became host of the hit singing series The Voice Of Ireland. When she’s not doing TV, she can occasionally be heard filling in on RTÉ Radio One’s The John Murray Show.
A busy girl, then. For the next hour or so, she’s happy to sit still and talk. After that, though, she has to dash. “I’m doing some voiceovers in RTÉ, and then I’m off to the gym.”

OLAF TYARANSEN: What’s your earliest memory?
KATHRYN THOMAS: My earliest memory is sitting in the back of the car going from Carlow to Wexford. We had a holiday place down there, still do actually. Well it’s a holiday house and a mobile home. There was a caravan there as well at one stage. The earliest memory is being in the back of the car with my brother and sister fighting over a packet of Rusk biscuits on the way to go on holiday.
If it was Rusks you were fighting about, you must have been very young.
Yeah. I think it was my sister in the middle who had the rusk – she’s three years younger than I am, then there’s myself and my brother, he’s a year older. My other brother Stephen is 19 now. There’s a ten-year age gap between him and my younger sister.
He was the afterthought.
Yeah. It’s funny because when my mom had Stephen I was 13 and I was in the convent in Downcarlow secondary school. And the following year I was sent to boarding school in The King’s Hospital in Dublin, because me and the nuns didn’t really see eye to eye, let’s put it that way (laughs). I don’t think being in an all-girl school really suited me. But I didn’t want to go to boarding school. My brother was already there and I had this vision of bars on windows and Mallory Towers. So I thought no, not for me.
I would’ve thought an Irish boarding school was more about drunken pillow fights in your underwear than Mallory Towers...
It was actually much closer to that than bars on windows and stuff (laughs). But it was great because the year Stephen came along I was at home. It meant I got to experience that first year when he was very young. We helped out. If my mom needed a night off we had the pram beside the bed, did the night feeds and did the changing and all of that. So babies don’t scare me or intimidate me in any way now. I’m totally comfortable around them.
What did your folks do for a living?
My mom was a teacher of Irish and French. And my dad’s a steel fabriactor. So we had a steel company that’s been in the family for generations, Thompson’s Engineering. Just two years ago, like everyone else, things really went downhill. They’re struggling big time at the moment. My brother worked in the company as well, as did my cousin. It’s a real family thing. It was my great-great-grandfather who started it. They employed a lot of people in the town. It’s difficult times for them, difficult times for everybody. My dad is kind of, in my head, the symbol of positivity. They went bust before in the ‘80s and rebuilt the company again. They’re going through the books and going through the business but from an outward perspective, he’s still very positive.
Was it a comfortable upbringing?
We were very lucky. We never wanted for anything, but at one stage there were nine students living in the house with us because the IT was across the road. So my mom had lodgers and we were all up in one room in the attic and the downstairs rooms belonged to them. Fair play to my mother, they had the sitting room and we had the kitchen so the house was divided. It was always busy, like a train station. People always coming and going. She managed it. She would say that it was tough and really hard work but, for us, it was new faces every year.
Was it a religious upbringing?
No. My mom is Catholic, my dad is Church of Ireland. My mom still goes to mass every Sunday. I’m not a believer. It was never forced down our throats. We would go to mass at Christmas time or Easter or whatever, which my nana still can’t get over. She’s my mom’s mom and is Catholic. She was at mass twice a day. She’d always be praying for us that we’d find the light. Unfortunately none of us have!
So you don’t believe in God?
I always find it difficult to answer this question. I don’t believe in God, I don’t. I find myself, like everybody, praying to something when something goes wrong or when you need something, your family or whoever has health problems. But no, I wouldn’t believe in God. I think there’s something out there. I don’t know what it is.
Do you believe in life after death?
No, I don’t believe in life after death either.
We’re worm fodder.
Yeah. I believe we’re given this chance and you should live to the best of your abilities, have fun. That’s one of my biggest beliefs – life should be fun. You should live each day as if it’s your last. Having travelled and learned a little bit about Buddishm and Hinduism and various different religions from around the world, I find the whole area of spirituality very interesting. I don’t have a definite ‘this is what I believe’. I think positivity and spirituality are important to people. My nana’s faith is everything to her. She lost two husbands and had a difficult life herself. She’s said she wouldn’t be anywhere without her faith and she has that positivity so whatever that spirituality gives her, it is enhancing her life. It’s great.
If you had children would you have them baptised?
If I’m lucky enough to have kids, I’m not going to be one of those people who kicks up a fuss because they’re taught religion. I know that’s a thing that’s going on at the moment because there’s so many different religions. But would I get them baptised? No matter who you were or what religion you were in Ireland, I think if you’ve grown up here there’s so much religion instilled in you. No matter how much you try and fight it. It’s almost that if you don’t baptise your child it’s like, “Jesus Christ, what will happen!?”
I read an old interview where you said that you’ve been dreaming of fame and fortune from a young age.
I wouldn’t say “fame and fortune”. I wanted to be an actress. I was never the wallflower in the corner. At any opportunity I was up on the windowsill or the coffee table. I loved that performance end of things. Acting was definitely the way that I wanted to go, and that’s what I always dreamed of – from Carlow to Hollywood! I haven’t achieved it, Saoirse Ronan has! I did all my speech and drama exams, and I did an Arts degree in UCD and I was in the Film Society. I did short films. I wanted to do the drama degree in Trinity but I decided that Communications was the way to go because it was more of a solid degree. In my Leaving Cert year, I was involved in the television end of things. I worked with the independent production company Coco Television, and I did a bit of work experience in RTÉ, so I kind of felt myself that TV could be a viable way in, and one that you could possibly make some money out of, as opposed to being a struggling actress. Once I got involved in television, I was hooked.
Were you a bit of a lippy kid when you were younger?
‘Cheeky’ is the right word. I wasn’t a troublemaker. I hung out with my brother and his friends a lot. Whether it was climbing trees or being down in the river or whatever, I was very outdoors-y. Yeah a tomboy. Cheeky and naughty – anything that pushed the boundaries, I was there. I never intended to cause trouble but I always managed to land myself in it. I was a bit gobby, yeah. Anything that felt dangerous, I was attracted to that.
Is that why your parents sent you to boarding school?
Yes! (laughs)
Was it a good experience generally?
I think I learned what independence was all about, and to a certain extent responsibility. Also what it meant to be an adult. That’s not to say that I didn’t get into trouble in school. There were windows in the boarding school, but there were no bars on the windows, so we did manage to have a few escapades. I got suspended a couple of times, but managed never to get the full heave-ho. Again, I think it’s because I liked school. I was good in school, I liked the teachers, I loved learning, I loved the exams, even the Leaving Cert. I wasn’t as academic as my brother, but I enjoyed the process of learning. I also enjoyed pushing the boundaries so I think when I did get into trouble, I had enough support amongst the teachers and the staff to get away with it.
When did you have your first drink?
I’d say maybe fifteen? Yeah. I don’t even really remember... I remember going having pints at sixteen.
How about drugs?
No, never. Yeah, the odd joint but, I think because I was in boarding school, it wasn’t a scene. It probably is now in schools, and maybe when I was younger but…
Surely there was plenty of ecstasy around?
Yeah, but not in school. Even when I was in first year, in the convent in Carlow, [there was] just smoking and drinking and even the odd bit of pot right through school. Drugs was never a big thing.
What about later at university?
Not really. For me and my friends it was generally about going out and having pints. I like my drink, I like dancing. Drugs were never a huge part of my social scene.
Did you have many boyfriends when you were younger?
I’ve always had boyfriends on and off but – for me, it was more the excitement of going out and partying and dancing and hanging out. I think also because I grew up with boys, my brother and his friends, I don’t remember these big exciting poignant moments as such. I always had a boyfriend, going through school and college, and then when I started working on Rapid. From the legal age I was allowed to have boyfriends, there was maybe four or five years altogether when I was single, otherwise I was hooked up (laughs).
What age were you when you lost your virginity?
Seventeen. It was a disappointment. So much so that I didn’t go near it again for about another year! (laughs)
Let’s hope he’s not reading this...
No, he doesn’t live here.
Did you travel much during your college years?
After the Leaving Cert we took off the day afterwards and went to Greece. We were in Greece for three months, backpacking, island-hopping, working, myself and two girlfriends. That was the first time I’d really travelled.
Had you done family holidays abroad before?
We’d been to Greece before and gone camping in France. Because we had a place down in Wexford, we didn’t go away every year. Most of the time we just went to Wexford, so this was the first time I had really travelled as such and lived on fuck-all, the usual hand-to-mouth type of thing. And that remains one of my best travel experiences because you literally had nothing. Living in a room with no windows, 33 degrees, whatever, dancing on the bar for drinks – I was a complete bar tart! It was brilliant, great fun.
How did you break into TV work so young?
I came back after those couple of months in Greece. I didn’t get Communications in DCU, so I landed in Arts in UCD, not really knowing what the hell I was going to do from there. And it was then I started knocking on doors and annoying people and turning up at every production company going, “I will make tea, I will label tapes, I will do whatever.” So during my time there I would do voluntary work at weekends with production companies and that sort of got me sparked for TV.
So you were quite ambitious?
Yeah. I kind of learnt that it’s best to go face to face and say, “I’m willing to do anything, I’ve 12 hours a week on an Arts degree so I can come out and I can be here.” I think it was important for me to do that. See, RTÉ is such a big sprawling place that you can get lost in it quite easily, but with the small production companies, you’re going into a small office with eight or ten people. You became a somebody quite quickly, as opposed to a nobody in the bowels of RTÉ.
So you weren’t just a gopher?
Well, I was a gopher, but I was happy to be a gopher that was noticed as opposed to one that wasn’t noticed.
How did Rapid come about?
I was down labelling tapes for Coco TV – these girls would send showreels in and my job was to rewind the showreels and make sure they were set up, put the stickers on them to make sure we knew who they were. I was looking at all these girls coming in with their headshots and all that...
I presume you were destroying all the good ones...
Yeah, fuckin’ rip that one up (laughs)! But even at that stage I loved the production side of it. I loved being part of a team. Even to just be in there at that stage was enough for me. One of the first shoots I was on was About The House with Duncan Stewart. It was pissing rain and my job was to hold the umbrella over Duncan for the day while he was doing his lines. To see how the creative process worked, I loved. But anyway they decided that Jason Sherlock was to be the male presenter for Rapid and one of the producers came down and said, “Look, would you think of auditioning for it yourself?” I didn’t have to be asked twice.
You’ve always had a TV show since then...
Touch wood (knocks forehead and laughs) – because, as you know yourself, the freelance business can be tough. But I was 19 and, fingers crossed, I haven’t been out of work since.
Any regrets about not going back to finish your degree?
None whatsoever.
How long did Rapid last?
It ran for three years. I was temping for the summer in London – I was going out with a guy who was an editor in London at the time – and I got the phonecall to say that Rapid wasn’t coming back, but could I meet the travel show people, they wanted to introduce a younger, funkier, independent strand. So I met that production company and they asked me if I would go backpacking and travel around the world for them and it was like, “Let me think about that... emmm – ok!”
It was a dream gig for any young person...
Ah Jesus! I started that when I was 21 and finished up last year when I was 31. Ten years. Literally, my whole 20s, I had this incredible privilege to work with a very small team and go to these amazing places.
What size film crew did you have on No Frontiers?
When we did the really independent stuff, it was just me and a director, who shot. I did sound, so it was two people in Outer Mongolia or Mali or West Africa or wherever – places where you needed to be less conspicuous. And then city break stuff, any of the American or Australian stuff, you’d have a cameraman, soundman, director and myself. Never more than four people. Lovely. That very much instilled in me what a team is. There’s no such thing as you’re the presenter, you get this room. You’re part of a team and we all have this story and it’s our responsibility to come back with it.
What was your first trip for No Frontiers?
My first trip was to Lapland. Ruán Magan was directing, there was just two of us. We lived with the Sámi people, the native Laps, way up in the north. Incredible, living in igloos, living with this family, eating reindeer, sleeping around the fire. It was magical. For the first two years I didn’t see it as a job. They’re paying me to do this and I’m getting to go places? Wow! That same year we went to South America, just myself and Ruán again. We started in Brazil and then did three weeks up to Bolivia and into Peru.
South America can be hairy...
Yeah. I got run over when I was in Rio. It was literally a case of walking down a backstreet back to the hotel and I was looking the wrong way. That was four days into our trip. I ended up in hospital, but I was totally fine, grand, very lucky. It was an adventure. The whole ten years was an adventure. The stuff we saw, the people we got to meet, the different cultures, and the different ways of living... it sort of made me acknowledge or appreciate that simply because we live one way in a democracy here, it doesn’t mean it’s the only way. So to be exposed to all of that, it does make you appreciate what you have here. I know people are in the shit but the standard of living that we have here, and the freedom of expression we have, is something valuable.
Of all the places you’ve visited, where wouldn’t you go back to?
There’s nowhere I wouldn’t go back to. I’ve had bad experiences. When I was in Japan I got really, really sick, I got that Asian flu. In Papua New Guinea, we got lost, we were attacked by a man with a machete… there’s all sorts of shit that happened!
Tell us about the man with the machete?
I wanted to do this story in Papua New Guinea about this tribe that lived in the north part of the country. I had seen a documentary on the History Channel about this ancient tribe. For me it was the final frontier, and I was pushing for the story for two years.
Did you decide where the show travelled?
I had a hand in it. As the years went on, and the more I was involved and the face of the show, I did get a say. I started off with the nose pierced and the tongue pierced and the eyebrow pierced, backpack, everything. And then I became the lead presenter and it was “this is the trade-off, that stuff must go and you need to start wearing flowery dresses and stay in five-star hotels.” Which was fine. I was growing up and I suppose becoming more of a woman. However, out of the 12-part series, I had to have my three or four backpacking stories, because they were the ones that I lived for. So we got Papua New Guinea off the ground – because it was so un-touristy and it’s very difficult to travel there. Anyway we were with a group of people and got lost and ended up crossing rivers which we really shouldn’t have crossed. Tribal territory out there is a massive thing and the land is sacred. We ended up on land which we had no permission to be on, at which stage this guy came out... and they chew betel nuts out there, which are a hallucinogenic. Everyone else had crossed the river, and we used ropes to get equipment across because it was so fast-flowing. Literally if you let go of the rope you were gone down to fucking god knows where! So the poor director was going, “I can’t believe we’re doing this, even from an insurance point of view this is mad!” We were going to find this abandoned goldmine.
An abandoned goldmine – excellent.
Yeah (laughs). It sounds almost like a film script: we had to go find this deserted goldmine, it was the one thing I really wanted to do because they had all the remnants, all old tanks and old World War equipment that had been left there after the war. So the crew had crossed with their equipment and as they had set up over the other side to shoot me coming across to them, this guy just came out of the cornfield and he had that red betel nut liquid around his mouth and he was wielding this machete and screaming. The thing is, there are over 800 different languages in Papua New Guinea. They all speak their own dialect. Some of them are quite similar but our guides had no idea what he was saying. He was just screaming two feet away with this knife in the air.
How did you react?
My life flashed before my eyes. I thought in a situation like that, I would be the gobby one, that I would be able to react. I just froze. I just remember looking him in the eye, and I put my head down. I wasn’t scared, I was numb and couldn’t run, couldn’t scream, couldn’t do anything. And I thought that was it and so did the rest of them across the river. They all thought, “What the fuck?” and the divide of the river was huge. It was a moment where nobody could do anything. And only because the guide was beside me, he was talked down and everyone had to recross the river and that took a half-an-hour and there was another hour of negotiation, and there was money handed over. Money talks even over there (smiles).
What was the worst place for being a female?
The worst place, and it was just because it was different for me, was Japan. We went when the 2002 World Cup was happening to do a review of how to do it cheap because it’s an expensive country to travel in. We were doing hints and tips for people. It was myself and Gerry and Steve, two fellas and myself, and we went over with loads of business cards. Out there, everything has to be such a show. You have to do the niceties and the politeness before you talk business – you have to sit down and bow and have tea and cross your legs and all of that. I was never involved in any of that conversation. So even in these big halls where you were meeting sports ministers, there would be a mat down at the end of the room for me. Gerry was directing, Steve was on sound. They were up the front and given sushi and tea, and I was down the back on the mat.
How did you feel about that?
It was kind of a learning process for me. I’m here, this is their culture, and I have to respect it. It doesn’t necessarily mean I agree with it but you know, what bothered me then was you would be down the red-light district and you’d see these guys in their suits, these high-flying businessmen and you’d see them going in…
Buying used panties from vending machines…
Yeah, dirty knickers from schoolgirls (laughs). It was just the paradox. Maybe women are second-class citizens and men are important, and therefore in the sex trade women are kind of worthless. This kind of showmanship of politeness and correctness – and then you see a totally different side. That was an eye-opener.
What was the most dangerous location you travelled to?
I never felt unsafe anywhere. I remember going to Africa with the director Judy Kelly. We had already been to Asia, but we went to Africa and, again, you had to embrace where you are, know that you’re going to stand out as a white woman and a woman with blonde hair. With the added focus of having about ten grand’s worth of equipment strapped between the two of you. You always had to watch your back but, at the same time, I think if you go into a country looking like you’ve got the fear of god and thinking that every person with a black face is out to get you, then there’s no point in travelling. Be confident, be security conscious, watch your back, but enjoy it. We had the greatest fun and met the most brilliant men and were really well looked after. Hairy moments? You have them everywhere.
How did you feel when No Frontiers finished?
I knew No Frontiers was coming to an end. Because of the downturn in the economy, people weren’t going on as many holidays, plus it had been running 13 years. For me, my time travelling had come to the right end. It was almost like two bookmarks, from 21 to 31, it was ten years and I had given everything I could give. Even when the show finished and Enda and I moved house and put all the shit away, the one thing I couldn’t put in the attic was the rucksack. The rucksack is still there because I have an addiction – and that is travel. If I’m not on the move for at least a couple of weeks in the year, I do get a bit weird and jittery. The whole idea of being in one place for too long is a problem.
I understand that the Winning Streak gig was different to what you had expected.
It wasn’t what I thought it was going to be but, listen, I had a great couple of years, it gave me studio experience. It was unusual because I had gone from a show that a lot of my friends watched to working on a show that a lot of them didn’t. But I learned so much. Again I was working with Aidan Power and Marty Whelan when I had spent the last ten years alone in front of a camera. I was learning how to deal with a studio audience. I was there with an earpiece in and a director going, “Okay, camera 2 zoom in.. 3, 2…” and “walk here now” and “audience applause”, which I had never done before. I’ve never used an earpiece and it was difficult and interesting and definitely a learning curve. It meant that when I jumped onto The Voice, and we’re doing the big live shows in front of 1,200 people with all of that shit going on and 65 million cameras and everyone working at once on this massive production, that I wasn’t intimidated. I think everything in my career has been steps.
You took over Operation Transformation following the death of Gerry Ryan. Had you known him well?
I wouldn’t have been friends with him, but I would have been friendly with him. He was always very supportive of me and he’d take the piss and we’d always have a bit of craic because he was a bit bold as well. I loved his boldness on radio and his honesty and I do genuinely think he was one of our best broadcasters. So I wasn’t sure about Operation Transformation continuing without him, and without his radio presence, because it was his baby. But when they said they were going to do it again, and they asked me to do it, I was confident I was up to the job. I knew it had to be different and I had to have my own self in it and also make sure I was still respecting what he had done. And I talked to Mick and to the family and once they were happy with it, I was ready to take it.
Was weight ever a personal issue for you?
Yeah, I was a bit of a chubster as a kid. Not that it ever really badly affected me. I got the slagging and all that. I was quite resilient and hid behind a bit of bravado, two fingers to you type thing. Once I got into boarding school there was a lot of sport that was compulsory, football, hockey... also as a woman, a lot of what I was carrying at that stage was puppy fat. Today people go, “You look great”, or whatever. Like any woman, I have hang-ups. I’m not the skinniest woman in the world. I would definitely be athletic in frame. I love my food, love my wine, love my cheese. I have to watch what I eat. I don’t at the weekend, it all goes out the window. I have to be at the gym or be out walking the dogs because I am prone to putting on weight. I do need to work at it, but I enjoy exercising, I’m in the gym twice a week.
There were a lot of press rumours about intense competition between yourself and Gráinne Seoige for The Voice...
Ah, they do that anyway because female televison jobs are few and far between. And it was the biggest show coming up, and it was the fact that The All Ireland Talent Show was her show. So they fuelled it more than necessary. But she was going for the job, I was going for the job, four or five other people were going for the job. It was competitive in the sense that we all wanted it. But no more competitive between me and her than it was between me and anybody else. As I said, she was very gracious about it, and she’s doing so well over in the UK...
Is there much solidarity between female TV presenters?
I really think there is. I’ve always had support whether it’s from Gráinne or Miriam O’Callaghan or even Anna Nolan who is now working on Operation Transformation. There’s this media creation that it’s all cat fights and bitch fights at dawn, but not at all.
When was the last time you cried?
Last night watching The Voice! Even though I’d bloody done the voiceover and watched it twice before anyone else had seen it... I cry at everything though. I very nearly did today. We were doing the weigh-ins at Operation Transformation and it’s the last time with the five leaders before they finish their journey next Sunday. And they’ve worked really hard and it sounds so clichéd but it’s life-changing stuff. You’re with these people week in, week out. And it’s great to see people succeeding. Whether it’s Operation Transformation or The Voice, I love seeing people succeed.
Would you ever be interested in presenting The Late Late Show or something like that?
“No” is the answer to that, right now. I don’t think the pinnacle of a TV career is a chat show. I’d love to do more human interest stuff. I haven’t had a plan as such since No Frontiers started. You live for the moment and try and do the best job that you can in the moment. I don’t know where I’m going to be next year, I don’t have an ambition to live my life by doing this, this and this. I often think I should. Television has been good to me and I’d like to stay in it.
There’s been a lot of criticism over some of the salaries paid in RTÉ. Do you think it’s justified?
Yes. I think a lot of the salaries that were paid out were unjustifiable. Salaries that you couldn’t stand over. They were what was offered at the time. I’m not saying that if I was ever offered a salary like that at the time and someone said, “Here you go, sign on the dotted line”... I would have been the first one grabbing the pen and signing. That was what was on the table. I do think they have been reduced, and rightly so. I think it’s more transparent now. Whether it’s big salaries or not, I think people should be paid accordingly for what they do and for what they bring in – advertising revenue, ratings, years of service, all of that has to be taken into account, absolutely. But there definitely were salaries that were inexcusable.
What was the most embarrassing moment of your life?
There’s been a few… (laughs).
Wasn’t there a story about you sunbathing topless on a beach when some No Frontiers fans came over to say “hello”…
Oh yeah, that wouldn’t have been one of my finer moments. I suppose like a lot of Irish people, doing stupid stuff when you’ve had one too many to drink. I think I’m Beyoncé or Jennifer Lopez when I’m out on the dancefloor. I can actually see some people in a nightclub looking out of the corner of their eye going, “Jaysus!” The usual capital ‘F’ for fear waking up once a month going, “Oh god… was I over the top last night?” But sure, it’s good innocent fun. Actually, did you hear what I did at the IFTAs the other night? Are you a fan of Alabama 3? You’re probably friends with them...
Well, I’ve met them once or twice...
Okay, this is off the record though. I wouldn’t be a massive fan of them at all and I was supposed to interview them on The John Murray Show. So I went to the gig the night before to kind of prep for the interview. And the singer, Larry Love, was off his fucking chops going, “Let’s burn Dublin, you have to support the London riots here in the UK, let’s start firebombing the police, fuck the police!” all this sort of shit. He arrived in the next day and we couldn’t broadcast the interview, it was unusuable. So the other night I was full of drink and he started, like in front of 1,700 people in the room, going, “Fuck the police, let’s support the London riots!” So up I got, fucking grabbed the microphone off him and said, “Can you explain to these people why you’re inciting violence?” So I was fuckin’ escorted out of the room. Again, not one of my finer moments. It was the wrong place at the wrong time, I shouldn’t have done it. And the only reason I did was because I was full of drink. That would be typical of me now. I’m very bad at staying in my box when something like that happens.
Actually, can I use that? It’s quite rock ‘n’ roll…
Eh… yeah, you can. It was in the papers and on 98fm. How best to say it? I didn’t agree with what he was saying, there was probably a better time and a place to make the point. I didn’t like his attitude. Have you been treated well by the press over here?
I actually have and I think again it’s because the shows I have worked on have not been controversial. The travel show is a travel show, you’re there to do your job. Winning Streak, you give away hundreds of thousands of euro. With Operation Transformation it’s caught the mind of a nation and smalltown Ireland, and it’s positive. It’s not for everybody, same as The Voice. I’ve not landed myself in any trouble, much to the amusement and bewilderment of my friends and family – just in the sense of talking out of line or doing something stupid. I don’t court publicity and I don’t go out looking to try and get into the papers. I know there’s tabloid journalism here and people say it’s becoming more and more like the UK but – touch wood (knocks forehead again) – I haven’t made the front pages for anything bad.

The Voice Of Ireland airs every Sunday at 6.30pm
on RTÉ 1.