About this time of year a decade or so ago, I had the pleasant experience of being in Dublin, staying at a small family hotel in St Stephen's Green.
Returning very late one night after the conference dinner, I found an old man — almost certainly the grandfather of the family — presiding at reception. The foyer and lounge areas were silent and empty, so I decided to use this quiet opportunity to send my wife a fax — to let her know I was okay and to check if all was well with her.
So I asked the venerable receptionist if he'd mind if I sent a brief fax to Australia and was surprised when he said no, it was not possible.
'Y'see,' he said, 'we haven't got the facility.'
Politely puzzled, I pointed out that there was a fax machine on the filing cabinet behind him.
'Well, now,' he said amiably, 'I thought that was one of those pho-to-copiers. But in any case, I'm sorry but I can't work them — the pho-to-copier or the fax.' He announced this with smiling conclusiveness. As far as he was concerned this was, sadly and regrettably, the end of our negotiations.
'But I can work the fax,' I said, 'and if you let me have a sheet of paper, I'll just write a quick note to my wife, send it off and you can put the cost on my bill.'
'Well,' he said, extracting a sheet of paper from its pile next to the fax machine, 'it's an amazing world we live in. To think your wife will be hearing from you in the blink of an eye.'
I nodded my agreement as I wrote the note then switched on the fax machine, fed the paper in and keyed in the number. Within seconds, the machine started that whirring, stammering process — advancing the paper in fits and starts — with which, in the early days of faxing, we became excitedly familiar.
The old man stood close by me, watching intently.
'Would she be seein' that right now?' he said, as the paper went through and the machine fell silent. 'Would she be readin' it while we stand here?'
Roughly calculating the time difference, I explained that she'd probably be at work in her study, with a cup of morning coffee to hand, and the fax machine on a side table would start chattering out its message