I’m English but a republican to my core, and have the fondest memories of listening (or standing on a chair singing along at full volume) to the Connolly folk on a Friday night at the hop poles in Hammersmith, or the white horse Islington on a Saturday with the curtains drawn and the beer pumps flowing for afters and the band free to play the songs I’d been waiting for all night. My lack of Irish heritage would become apparent at the end of the night when the national anthem was sung in Gaelic. I became adept at moving my lips and grunting the odd sound which was the best my south London tongue could manage. When I actually visited the Ireland a few times I have to say the atmosphere in their bars wasn’t a patch on the London Irish pubs that I was used to getting pissed in