Couldn’t Escape If I Wanted To: Siege, separation, and solidarity.

I remember it well. I was sitting in the TV lounge at a caravan site in Portsalon, Co. Donegal, Ireland. It was May 1993. A family holiday.

250 miles to the south, the largest global musical event of the year was taking place in the town of Millstreet, Co. Cork (population 1500).

The contest was memorable for a number of reasons:

• Millstreet was the smallest ‘city’ ever to host the competition.

• There was a lot of saxophonage. Bear in mind this was the year after that sax solo in I Will Always Love You.

• It was a nail-biter of a show, with the U.K. and Ireland battling it out for the top spot.

However, the moment that sticks out in my memory, and that forms the starting point for this unit, was when the show’s host, Fionnuala Sweeney, connected with the spokesperson for the Bosnian jury in Sarajevo. His voice was initially obscured by a high-pitched squeal. When it ended, Sweeney uttered the words which I remember as if she said them yesterday: ‘Hello Sarajevo, we are hearing you.’ In response, the audience in Millstreet rose to their feet and gave the announcer - and Sarajevo, and Bosnia - a sympathetic and supportive standing ovation.

At the time of the contest, Sarajevo was in the middle of the longest siege in modern history, and the Bosnian Eurovision representatives had risked their lives to get to Ireland. The solidarity demonstrated that night by the Millstreet audience still gives me goosebumps.