The interview took place on Wednesday morning last, the day of the Fine Gael leadership battle. It was to be a non-political interview, to mark his 75th birthday, which occurs next Friday.
He now lives in a modest, semi-detached house off Ranelagh Road, in Dublin. It is next door to the home of his daughter, Mary, and her family. There is a connecting door and lots of traffic between the two houses. He moved there just over a year ago having lived in Palmerston Road since 1975, with his wife, Joan, who died 18 months ago.
Two weeks ago he fell while walking on Dun Laoghaire pier and broke a finger on his left hand and a bone in his left foot. The injuries only barely constrain him.
He is less overweight than he used to be, looks a bit less than 75, talks even faster than he used to, and his dress sense has not improved. He entertains regularly, getting somebody in to do the cooking. He claims to know a bit about wines, pointing at a stack of around eight bottles.
The house is well decorated, apart from his study, which is lined with volumes of virtually all Irish economic statistics since 1870.
He leads a full life, lecturing in Macedonia, Bulgaria, Hungary, Britain and the United States last autumn, as well as attending conferences in Italy and England, and was in France on holiday last summer. He writes a weekly column for The Irish Times (see page 16); is Chancellor of the National University of Ireland; is on the boards of three companies in Ireland, Germany and the US, (Development Consultants International, Point Holdings, and Election.com); and is a member of the Institute for European Affairs, for which he recently launched in Ireland, England and Wales a book on Britain and Europe seen from an Irish viewpoint. The book was prepared by a group which he chaired; he is now chairing another group preparing a study on the future of Europe.
Until last May he was a member of the RTE authority.
For all of that, I felt there was a sense of sadness about him.