Sitting in the youth centre in Killarney, cracking jokes, giving advice, and generally exuding youthful energy. A century of life has given Dan Keating a lot to talk about. And he's not alone.

There are twice the number of centenarians in Ireland today as there were 10 years ago. In 1996, 85 people celebrated their 100th birthday, while this year, Aras an Uachtarain expects to send the 'Centenarian's Bounty' . . . a check for 2,540 . . . to 170 people.

This figure represents a significant increase on the paltry 27 centenarian celebrations in 1984, and is even a notable rise from last year's number of 141. Also, none of these statistics account for people who live on into their hundreds, although Aras an Uachtarain says Ireland's oldest known resident is 109. She'll be 110 in May.

The statistics are a clear representation of an international trend . . . people, everywhere, are living longer. But at such a majestic age, can the quality of life be any good?

Dan Keating is not initially available to answer that question because he's gone for his daily two-mile walk. Upon his return to his home in Castlemaine, Co Kerry, where he lives with his niece, Dan decides that he would prefer to be interviewed face to face.

"I can't meet tomorrow, now, because I have an appointment in Killarney, " he says.

"I'm giving a talk. Any other day, and I'd be free."

Dan has been invited by the HSE to speak at a 'Walking for Health' workshop. A little negotiation, and the Sunday Tribunewangles an invitation.

The Killarney train is running late, and the talk is five minutes in. Gales of laughter waft from behind the closed door, and a quick peek through the glass reveals Dan holding court at the head of a large circle of middle-aged people.

Fluffy white hair covers his head, except for a small bald patch at the crown. His pink cheeks radiate health. Only his eyes, a little glazed and unfocused, betray his age.

The fascinated expressions of his audience suggest that he's going down a storm. "No, I never had any children, " he says, in reply to a question from the floor. There's more laughter. "That explains it, that's the secret, " calls out one of the few men in the room.

Every day, Dan says, he has a bowl of porridge before going for a walk. He comes home, has lunch, takes it easy for an hour, and goes for another walk. Then dinner. Then bed.

He never eats after six o'clock.

And he likes to travel, using his free pass for trains and buses.

Just last Christmas, he went on a trip to Dublin. "Free travel, " he says with a grin. "That's because of Charlie. One of the best."

Twenty minutes later, the workshop breaks for lunch.

Dan tucks into some ham and coleslaw sandwiches with gusto, pausing only to sip his tea and answer the odd question. Happiest memory? "Marrying my wife, " he says. "And watching the All Ireland finals.

I've seen 154 finals. That's no exaggeration."

Finished his excursion, Dan dons his hat, coat and scarf, and easily makes his way down the steps to the car park. He walks tall, and waves goodbye.

There is never a good time to ask about his quality of life.

Nor is this an easy question to put to the extremely sprightly-sounding 101-year-old Katie McMenamin from Rathmullen in Donegal. She has just returned from her weekly outing to the local day centre, and was about to get a cup of tea when the phone rang.

She is full of the excitement of her trip to the centre. "They do everything up there, " she says. "They do your shopping, and post letters, and get tablets if you need them. They take us out on trips. And they have a chiropodist and a hairdresser, but you have to pay extra for them."

Rather than trust her hair to a stranger, Katie relies on her daughter who comes down from Letterkenny every Saturday and does her hair before taking her to mass. She has a large extended family, with four children, nine grandchildren and five great-grandchildren.

Her husband, Patrick, died seven years ago. "I still miss him very much, " she says, and the chirpy tone fades quickly from her voice. "We were always together, always, since we met."

Katie was 36 years old, and working as a morse-code operator in the local post office, when she met Patrick. "I was sure I wasn't going to marry at all, but I changed my mind when I met him, " she says.

"When you meet the right person, I suppose you just know."

Living alone now, she occupies herself by reading two novels a week and working her way through a book of crosswords. Her mind is as sharp as ever, but her legs are weak now. She doesn't mind this, she says. It's to be expected. "I seem to have lived in two different worlds, " she says.

"Everything is so different.

Some good. Some bad. I have no regrets, and that's a great thing."

She doesn't flounder when asked if she'll have her photograph taken. "I'm getting my pacemaker checked tomorrow morning, but I'm free in the afternoon?" she says. An appointment is arranged, and then there is only time to ask if she is surprised that there are double the number of centenarians now than a decade ago.

"I'd believe that, " she says.

"Sure, there's another woman in the centre, and she's older than me."

THE WORLD IN 1906

March: Explosion in coalmine in Courrieres, France kills 1,060.

April: Mount Vesuvius erupts and devastates Naples; Writer Samuel Beckett born in Foxrock, Dublin; San Francisco 7.8 scale earthquake destroys much of the city, killing at least 3000.

May: Land reform campaigner Michael Davitt dies aged 60.

August: Catholic Hierarchy rules out any scheme for mixed education at TCD; A Paris court grants a sepration, but not divorce, to Maud Gonne and John MacBride.

September: Typhoon with tsunami kills an estimated 10,000 persons in Hong Kong.

November: SOS becomes an international distress signal; Death of Michael Cusack, founder of the GAA.

December: US president Theodore Roosevelt awarded the Nobel Peace Prize; World's first feature film, 'The Story of the Kelly Gang', is released.