Bertie Ahern paced the doorway at Farmleigh like a nervous father at a wedding. Not even his recent experiences in the latter role could have fully prepared him for the Day of Welcomes, as 27 prime ministers and two EU delegations swept up his driveway at short intervals. (The Bulgarian, Romanian and Turkish prime ministers were invited, as well as the leaders of the EU states). Between arrivals, he walked back and forth, head down, as if rehearsing his speech.
He could at least relax in the knowledge that his place was looking well.
Jacques Chirac was clearly impressed as he climbed out of the car, gesturing at the house and gardens and the Phoenix Park, and saying "beautiful" over and over.
"And only two miles from Dublin?" he asked, eyebrows raised, as his host led him inside.
Farmleigh has its own grounds, of course. But with the whole Phoenix Park cordoned off like a crime scene, Mr Chirac could have been forgiven for thinking the house had the largest private garden in Europe. Versailles paled by comparison.
The balmy conditions, and the fact that Dublin was deserted apart from policemen, created the eerie atmosphere of a Central American city after a coup.But the ceremony over at Áras an Úachtaráin was undeniably touching, with the presentation of the 25 flags by schoolchildren, and the raising of the colours to the sound of the RTÉ Philharmonic Choir singing Ode to Joy.
Then it was back to Farmleigh where guests enjoyed a simple-sounding dinner of salmon, duck and "wild berries in a tuile basket", with wines representing the new and old Europes. The white was from Slovenia, and the red from the great French vineyard of Chateau Lynch Bages - a deliberate nod to the memory of the Taoiseach who brought Ireland into the then EEC in 1973.
After dinner, the prime ministers were entertained by musicians including Altan.
"Please come closer to us," appealed Mairéad Ní Mhaoinigh, as guests hung back in the Farmleigh marquee.
But when Gerhard Schröder starting clapping to the music and danced the distant relative of a jig, everyone looked a bit nervous.
The disturbances at the Phoenix Park's Ashtown Gate had no chance of reaching the ears of the guests.
The Office of Public Works said yesterday a 200-year-old sycamore tree near Farmleigh House was cut down because it was rotting and not to provide TV cameras with a better view of the State mansion.
The OPW said the tree suffered from a root-decaying fungus called ganoderma, and was chopped down in recent weeks for safety reasons.
"The tree was in an area off to the left of the house, and it wouldn't have mattered (for television images) whether it was there or not."
