Being a TV reporter means spending a significant amount of time doing vox pops. This is where you haunt the high streets of cities and towns, politely haranguing the general public into being on telly. It fills up a news package by getting everyday people to tell you what they think about an issue, but at a great personal cost. It feels like a sales job. You can’t approach too soon in case they spot you with your microphone and cross to the other side of the road. You have to peel off in a delicate spin at the last minute before you lock eyes with them maniacally and launch into your spiel with faux enthusiasm. “Hiiiiiii!!!!”
I always felt like those faux cheery charity people who try to wave you down with their brightly coloured clipboards so they can meet their sign-up targets by making you feel bad enough about homeless donkeys who need laser eye surgery to commit you to a direct debit.
“Hey there!” they say with enthusiastic friendliness on their face but a sadness behind their eyes. It is so cold on the streets and the constant rejection is wearing away at their soul.
“Can I just ask you a questio…” was as far as I’d get before someone dismissed me with a wave. You could be out there for hours. To keep his spirits up, one camera operator I worked with invented a game of “Protestant or Catholic” for anyone who passed us. He could tell, you see. He had a gift. “Catholics don’t wear socks like that ... A Protestant would not carry a big loaf of seeded bread under their arm for the world to see,” he would say solemnly as if he was some kind of sectarian Harry Potter sorting hat.
There are things Australians do better than the Irish. Death isn’t one of them
I’ve entered the world of weight-loss clips on TikTok. It’s like heroin chic all over again
Moving to another country is hard. You’re not failing if you’re not living up to a filtered social media standard
Her ‘no’ was clear. She did not want to go home with him. Still he went on. And on
Trying to live in the small enclave of Sydney’s east is like me moving to Ireland and insisting on living next to Bono in Dalkey
The most memorable vox pop answer came from approaching international visitors in Dublin and asking them what they thought of Ireland so far.
My cameraman immediately switched from playing “Protestant and Catholic” to “Spot the Tourist”. Which was easy enough – these were the people dressed in head-to-toe hiking gear and looking like they were about to summit Everest even though they were going to the Aran jumper shop on Nassau Street.
We interrupted the holiday of a lovely older couple from Canada to ask them if their trip lived up to their expectations.
The wife sighed, “I thought there would be more leprechauns.”
“Oh you mean like more leprechaun-themed things like the Leprechaun Museum?”
No. She meant just leprechauns in general. The mythical beings. She was genuinely disappointed she hadn’t seen them out and about, waiting in line for a flat white in Costa or just popping to Penneys for a few bits before a girls’ night.
I’ve been thinking of her often as I see the amount of “deinfluencing you from moving to Australia” videos floating around on TikTok from young Irish arrivals. Some are disappointed by how expensive it is to live in Sydney. Others are discouraged by the restrictions on their working holiday visas that allow them to work for an employer for only six months, making it hard to find permanent “office” jobs. They’d been taken in by all the social media of sunrises on Bondi without realising a lot of travel influencing is a total swizz. I want to hug them all and say it’s going to be okay.
The small enclave of Sydney’s east is not representative of life in Australia. Of course it’s expensive: trying to live there is like me moving to Ireland and insisting on living next to Bono in Dalkey. I’ve never been able to afford to live there. It’s okay to find it hard.
We don’t all get up at 5am, put on active wear and go for a run on the beach. Those influencers who are hauling themselves out of bed that early can do that because they don’t work full-time jobs. They can nap at 2pm.
[ Brianna Parkins: ‘The Irish have a natural instinct for nosiness’Opens in new window ]
The best thing about the beach is that you can go any time of the day. Don’t let these influencers who base their day around getting a cute coffee at 7am convince you otherwise.
Moving to a new country on the other side of the world is really hard, even without the added bonus of visa restrictions and a global housing crisis. You’re not failing if you’re not living up to a highly filtered social media standard. Who cares what people at home think – you’re already so far in advance of everyone else who just talked about it but never followed through.
