World of Politics with Harry McGee

A few years ago, the National Ploughing Championships was held in Ratheniska Co Laois. The first day had been awful, driving rain and winds but when I arrived on Wednesday, there were clear skies and not a puff of a breeze.

So as I parked the car in a slope, high above the canvass city I made an executive decision. My wellies were in the boot of the car ready for their annual outing, but I said to myself I’d leave them there as there was no need for them.

Sure, wasn’t it a lovely day and the ground was drying out nicely. Wouldn’t wearing them all day be purgatory on my feet? Would it not be better to chance wearing the trail runners that I was wearing?

Happy days.

Well, not quite.

As I approached the entrance, I could see the tricky day I was arranging for myself.

A lake of liquidy mud – with the consistency of ganache chocolate icing – lay in front of the entrance booth. Only by some tightrope walking on the edge was I able to bypass it.

It was like that all day. If for some reason you were diverted from the metal walkways you were kiboshed, as you were essentially left to walk through a swamp.

Somehow I survive for most of the day. If you get through the rest of the column, I’ll let you know what happened at the end.

I’ve been attending the Ploughing on and off for 20 years as a political correspondent – because from early on, political parties recognised the value of appearing at the ploughing. It was essentially the final gig before the Dáil returned.

The political parties started putting up their own marquees. It became standard for political leaders to attend the festival, do an interview with the national media and meet their rural public. When Sinn Fein started to go there, Gerry Adams and Mary Lou McDonald were mobbed.

There were some political leaders who were naturals there. Enda Kenny was one of those. He arrived and went out and about, pumping the flesh, thumping people on the back, jumping up on machines, and kicking tyres. He was rural himself and understood the nature of people who attended there. Heather Humphreys has been the same this year.

His successor, Leo Varadkar was very different. Varadkar has a reticent personality and is not a natural mixer. His first visit to the Ploughing Championships was that of a fish out of water. He found it very hard to engage with people. He was then, as now, hopeless at small talk.

Pictured: Catherine Connolly meeting visitors to the National Ploughing Championships this week.