Bridges built as Taoiseach gripped, shaken and stirred

WE wondered anxiously aloud/ if the day would unveil new histories/ when all at once we saw a crowd/a host of golden opportunities.

And so it was, in a daffodil-filled setting just like the Wordsworth poem, that Farmleigh became the venue for another milestone in the political chronicles of our time. The sky was blue, flowers swayed in the breeze and deer grazed. It couldn’t have been prettier if Beatrix Potter had done a makeover.

But as the convoy of State cars snaked into view, one question remained. Would Ian Paisley be the black cloud in the picture-perfect scene? The question did not linger long. “Good morning!” the man with the built-in loud hailer commanded to the world at large as he emerged into the sunshine and strode towards the waiting Taoiseach like an old friend long overdue a visit. “I have to shake hands with this man — give him a grip.”