There was a certain irony in the fact that the press conference at Dublin Castle yesterday took place in the room where the Moriarty tribunal holds its deliberations.
The room is expensively decorated, with crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and Botticelli angels on the walls. But the ventilation leaves something to be desired and after a while beads of sweat start forming on your forehead.
It is not the most congenial environment to answer questions, as Charles Haughey and Michael Lowry could probably confirm. But yesterday the target for the questions was Romano Prodi, President of the European Commission.
Famous for his courtesy and politeness, Mr Prodi is far too nice to insist on speaking his native Italian while employing the services of an interpreter. English is not his first language, and that may be one of the reasons he keeps talking his way into trouble.
Yesterday he managed to get himself out of a hole on the issue of a two-speed Europe. No, no, he wasn't at odds with the Taoiseach, they were singing from the same hymn-sheet. But he started digging another hole for himself on the Lisbon Agenda.
Lisbon was supposed to be about making Europe the "most" competitive knowledge-based economy in the world. But in his convoluted way, Mr Prodi managed to give the impression, at least some of the time and to some of the journalists, that he was backing away from that target and would be content if Europe simply became "more" competitive.
When challenged about the matter, he proceeded to clarify and elaborate. That can't have been easy after a lunch where Jean-Marc Brocard Chablis 2001 and Masi-Amarone Costasera Classico 1999 wine was served on the bilingual Irish-English menu with Filléad Mairteola, císte prata bacstaí agus sú d'fhíon dearg (Fillet of Beef, boxty potato cake and red wine jus). But if you're explaining your losing, Mr Prodi.
The newly-unemployed Alistair Campbell should offer his services to the Commission President. Keep it simple, Romano, would be his message. Don't try to be subtle. Don't confuse the hacks with qualifications and subordinate clauses.
Bertie Ahern sat with his arms folded, clearly enjoying it all. It's so nice when somebody else is under the spotlight. Caked with TV make-up, Bertie looked the picture of ruddy-cheeked health beside the pale-faced Romano.
Earlier, almost the entire Commission turned out with the Government for a "family photograph" in St Patrick's Hall. The Commissioners are the barons of Europe but, except for the odd familiar face like Neil Kinnock, the snappers did not know who they were. "Who's that woman standing between Brian Cowen and Charlie McCreevy? Is it Anna Diamantopoulou from Greece? No, no, it's Viviane Reding from the Netherlands."
Maybe it's time we had a "reality TV" show featuring the European Commission. Put them on the Saltee Islands for a week and give the viewers a vote to decide which one does the best routine on the Constitutional Treaty, who talks a good game on Enlargement, and who can stay awake longest while speaking about the Common Agriculture Policy .
Think of it: Gunther Verheugen could become as big a name as Ronan Keating, Frits Bolkestein be as well-known as Justin Timberlake, Loyola de Palacio as prominent as Britney Spears .
Such a programme might be the only way to save Europe from becoming a conspiracy between bureaucrats and anoraks who talk an impenetrable jargon to the exclusion of the masses. What would we call it: Prodi's People? The Weakest Link? Foot in Mouth?