It was a day of sunshine and showers, a perfect day for bowler hats and brollies. Smoke from charred bonfires mingled with the rancid oil of chip vans. Old ladies sat patiently on plastic chairs by the parade route. The Twelfth of July in Belfast, and all was well with the world.
If only. The killing of the three young Quinn children has cast a pall over Northern Ireland, and has taken much of the sting out of the Drumcree impasse. But it was hard to see if their deaths had made any difference to the parade festivities. The drums beat as insistently as ever; the same air of menace mingled with the music. There were no black armbands, no moments of silence, no expressions of regret offered by the rank-and-file marchers.
Not even a bomb scare could stop the parade leaving Carlisle Circus in the north of the city on time, at exactly 10 a.m. With military precision, the procession wended its way at speed through the city centre. Feeder parades arrived from outlying districts and blended smoothly into the main march of about 250 Orange Lodges. Scores of soldiers and RUC officers lined the route, particularly near Catholic areas. Side streets were sealed off and tarpaulins were erected on some streets to block off the marchers from local residents. Yesterday was a bank holiday in the North, but even newsagents and other small shops which are normally open had rolled down the shutters and gone home.
Most lodges have two broad components. There are the dark-suited Orangemen, most of them middle-aged or elderly. Their sashes are decorated with the badges of the Order, and they carry ceremonial pikes and swords. Many wear white gloves and carnations in their bowler hats. They march with pride, the eldest among them transported in black taxis or wheelchairs.
Then there are the bandsmen, younger and more energetic. And none more energetic than the drummers, belting out the thumping beat which sets the tone for the day. T-shirts and even shorts reveal tattoos on their arms and legs; ear-rings are more common than sashes. Some have dyed their hair blonde, Gazza-style.
The lodge banners, fluttering wildly in the high winds, reveal an intimate knowledge of 17th and 18th century gentry; a prince consort dead for over 200 years is referred to as "the late" and King Billy, naturally, is everywhere. But some marchers carry more current political slogans, for example "Loyal Orange Lodge 592 said `No'."
Other lodges display their paramilitary links, such as "York Street Protestant Action Force" and "North Belfast UDA". Bands such as the "Shankill Protestant Boys" have hundreds of teenage followers who run alongside the parade for miles to keep up with their heroes. Numerous Scottish bands have made the journey, and lodges from the Republic, such as "Co Monaghan True Blues" are represented.
The crowds of onlookers are thin enough at first, but swell as the parade reaches City Hall. A stall at Shaftesbury Square does a roaring trade in Union Jacks and T-shirts depicting silhouetted gunmen.