Having secured Heydays and given her a metaphorical pat on the back, we pop into the closest bar which turns out to be attached to the unfortunately named Culag Hotel…the photos don’t help. We notice the exclusively male clientele and then duck as a fight ensues. It is more like handbags at dawn but they send our plates flying before the bar-lady pulls them both apart. The young lad is sent away, the old drunk returns to his corner and told to be on his best behaviour. This does not apparently exclude loud and frequent profanities along the lines of “look at the **** state of that” in response to various acts appearing on Eurovision which is being played loud and avidly watched.