Date Published: 13-Apr-2011

I would love to know the cost of Prince Albert’s ‘Royal visit’ to Ireland last week – because if it was more than fifty pence, we were…well, royally ripped off.

Some called it a dress rehearsal for the Queen which will cost us at least €7 million in security, which is a lot of money for a couple who could have used their free travel passes and taken the train. Instead we’ll have armed protectors as the old dears take a look around Croke Park on a quiet day and visit the Garden of Remembrance where they’d do well not to remember why we opened this garden in the first place.

In fairness Albert did drop in on the Marine Institute – complete with an entourage to match his ego – and he signed a memorandum of understanding which is supposed to foster greater links between here and Monaco.

The good people at the Marine Institute will undoubtedly do their best to make that worthwhile but it remains to be seen whether or the Prince remembers what he promised given that he’s finally getting married at the age of 53 – a move which will, thankfully for him, end those spurious rumours that he’s gay.

In fairness, any man who’s had as many paternity cases of Prince Albert can rightfully claim to have done his level best to sire a son and heir before settling down with the former Olympic swimmer and Princess Grace lookalike contest winner, Charlene Wittstock.

Poor Charlene looked as bored as an eight year old child at midnight Mass, probably thinking that when she signed up for life as the wife of a multi-millionaire Prince it would not involve glasses of stout in Newport or walking around dilapidated old cottages in the west of Ireland rain.

And look at the old Kelly homestead you’d have to wonder – if we took such pride in this link to Grace Kelly, why isn’t there a roof on it?

At least Charlene didn’t have to pay for the whole circus – we did. And there were fleets of black limos and Gardaí deployed in case some decided that the Prince of Monaco was suddenly a world leader of some importance as opposed to a bald, middle aged man trying to keep his young blonde fiancé out of a coma from sheer boredom.

And as for the benefits, if anyone actually thinks that multi-millionaire tax exiles will sail off in their yachts, leaving behind the sun and sheer wealth of this makeshift Principality to enjoy the bracing wind and rain of Ireland, they are deluded enough to work for the Department of Finance.

In fairness to Barack Obama, he sees these Irish trips for what they are – a photo opportunity (the price for which is a half an hour of shaking hands) all in the name of trying to claim a slice of the Irish-American vote for his re-election effort.

Even his own handlers now seem embarrassed by the speed of this visit and it looks like he’ll have to book in somewhere overnight so as not to give the impression that this is the equivalent of a toilet stop on his way to the big gig.

Either way, he’ll only be here long enough to say top o’ the mornin to Croke Park and begorrah to Moneygall before he heads off to the UK for his real visit – although, in fairness, now that he might be staying a little longer he could cram in a few holes of golf.

Obama hasn’t time to be supping tea with his eighth cousins from the Queen’s County or downing pints in Durty Nelly’s – this man is running the western world.

For more, read this week’s Connacht Tribune.