There are PR mishaps, and then there’s the time half the country thought Westport was moonlighting as Babestation HQ. Picture it: a postcard-pretty town, warm lights in pub windows, Croagh Patrick looming noble in the background… and landlines pinging after midnight because randy viewers forgot to dial +44. The UK chatline numbers started 098…; Westport’s area code is 098; Ireland collectively facepalmed. Cue sleep-deprived locals, ministers calling regulators, and a media circus.
The mix-up
Irish callers aiming for Babestation’s premium numbers skipped the international code, and instead hit Westport households. The story broke nationally in late January 2017: TD Michael Ring said constituents were being deluged with late-night calls from people expecting an X-rated chat, not Mary from Shop Street. RTE explained the mechanics; The Guardian and Independent amplified the sheer farce of it all. Westport stirred. Ireland giggled. Babestation blinked… then moved.
Fix it first, then front up
The quickest win was technical: change the number and kill the confusion. Babestation announced it would ditch the 0982 UK prefix and switch ranges so Irish domestic numbers wouldn’t collide again. RTÉ reported the change on 26 January, noting the company’s explanation that new UK ranges introduced in 2015 had – unbeknownst to them – overlapped visually with Irish domestic codes. That solved the practical problem. But the story had become bigger than a prefix. Time for… model diplomacy.
Model diplomacy: three babes and a brolly
On 26–27 January 2017, three Babestation favourites – Vicky Narni, Priya Young, and Alexa Brooke – landed in blustery Westport wearing big smiles and even bigger umbrellas. The brief: meet locals, apologise, explain the fix, and (ideally) send everyone home laughing. They hit the streets, stopped for photos, popped into local radio, and did the “sorry about your phone, love” tour with charm to spare. Even the Examiner’s photo captions had a wink to them; The Irish Post captured the mood: windswept, friendly, surreal.
“We’re sorry for any offence,”
one of the models told a local outlet – then pointed out the number change should “negate the issue in its entirety.” It was contrition with a clear fix attached, which is exactly how you land a wobble.
Media theatre, Mayo style
The Irish Examiner ran a mini-rolling update (“Hold the phone”), tracking the number switch and the visit; RTÉ posted news and TV segments; national papers sent photographers for the money shot by the “Welcome to Westport” sign. For 48 glorious hours, Westport was trending for the most Irish reason imaginable: neighbourly mortification wrapped in good humour and a gale-force wind. Local politics had its moments (an invite extended to Minister Ring; a polite decline), but mostly it was smiles, selfies, and a collective “ah, would you look.”
What actually changed (and why it mattered)
Behind the cheeky headlines was a proper hygiene fix:
- Numbering: Babestation stopped using the 0982 UK premium range and moved to a prefix that wouldn’t be confusable with Irish area codes.
- On-screen updates: RTÉ reported the onscreen graphic updates were pushed the same day so callers would see the corrected details immediately.
- Expectation-setting: National coverage hammered the simple lesson: add the UK code when calling overseas services. The misdials dried up, and Westport’s landlines finally got a night off.
The scale (and the story)
Here’s the twist that every PR nerd loves: Ireland’s regulator later logged only a handful of formal complaints about the saga. In other words, the media footprint was bigger than the actual impact—because the story was irresistible. That’s folklore: a tiny tangle with a perfect headline.
Reede Fox’s PR lessons (scribbled on a pint mat at Matt Molloy’s)
- Fix the root cause – fast. Numbers changed, graphics updated, confusion eliminated. Tell people exactly what you did and when it takes effect.
- Show up in person. The Westport walkabout took heat out of the room. It’s disarming to apologise with a smile, an umbrella, and a plan.
- Own the laugh. You can’t beat a story like this; lean into the charm and keep it human. The Guardian/Independent pieces wrote themselves precisely because everyone understood the joke.
- Close the loop locally. Pop into community radio, talk to councillors, invite the minister (even if he’s busy). That’s how you turn headlines into good will.
The Westport epilogue
A week later, the frenzy faded, Westport was back to live trad and late pints, and the phones were – blissfully – quiet. But the story stuck, because it’s peak Ireland: a mix of politeness, practicality, and playfulness. And it’s peak Babestation, too: a brand-side reminder that if you mess up someone’s bedtime… bring a brolly and say sorry properly.
