Seán MacConnell describes his week with the farmers' tractor convoy as it roared towards Dublin
Sunday, January 5th: I am lost somewhere between Bantry and Bandon in Co Cork on the way down to cover the biggest farm tractor protest yet held in Ireland.
All the signs point to Béal na mBláth. I take this as a bad omen for anyone taking part in any convoy in Cork. I avoid the scene of the most famous ambush in modern Irish history and make it safely to Bantry.
It's cold and miserable in Bantry but there I meet the men from Beare Island who started their journey earlier in the day.
I am very impressed by a quiet man called Denis Regan from Castletownbere, who is determined to make the trip to highlight the serious plight in which he finds himself and his neighbours.
IFA president John Dillon confesses to being a Richie Kavanagh fan. He is the man who made a hit of The Tractor Song and Aon Focal. Not an encouraging start.
Monday, January 6th: It's Little Christmas or Women's Christmas and I make the first mistake of the journey, one which will live with me for the next 256 miles.
On the Pat Kenny Radio Show, I use the old rural phrase "laying hen" to describe working wives or spouses. Political correctness would appear to have arrived in rural Ireland. Woe is me.
The protest is starting on the same day as the 1966 farmers' rights march on Dublin, a fact not lost on Dillon. He poses in front of two cannons which grace the front of the Bantry Bay Hotel and heads for Dublin city. The media is told there will be photo opportunities in Clonakilty, the home town of the Minister, Joe Walsh, but at the last minute this involves a swift drive-by, but no shooting, at his house on Emmett Square.
There are a few hundred people lining the square and they applaud as hundreds of tractors drive through the town. We arrive in Bandon to overnight there at the local mart after two encounters at feeding stops with a strange soup which is supplied by IFA supporters. It tastes vaguely of oxtail and bootlaces. Meet my first "angry woman", who just happens to be a working spouse.
Tuesday, January 7th: The cavalcade, which has attracted huge media attention, sweeps through Cork city without a hitch. The convoy has now grown to over 400 vehicles and they are an awesome sight.
The Corkonians take it in their stride and some applaud, but most ignore it.
On radio, John Dillon is accused of being on an "ego trip" and he is unusually upset about the allegation and demands an apology. I
meet more irate women on Patrick Street and later at a soup stop on the way to Fermoy, Co Cork, where we stay overnight.
Wednesday, January 8th: It has emerged that Denis Regan, who is leading the cavalcade, has no heater in the cab of his tractor.
He is dressed in a boiler suit and it is so cold during the day that even car heaters cannot drive away the chill.
We encounter Ned O'Keeffe and 600 tractors in Mitchelstown. Ned, who has been described as the official leader of the unofficial opposition, has a belt at the Government while standing on the cab of a tractor.
He claims farmers may soon become as scarce as corncrakes and the mention of any bird seems to bring out more female protesters who mention to me Monday's disgraceful references to you-know-what.
The overnight stopover is at the farm of former Macra president, Padraig Walshe, and his wife. Ella. I do not inquire if Ella works outside the home.
Thursday, January 9th: The west Cork men are complaining about the stress on their hips from sitting in their cabs as they head from Durrow to Kill, Co Kildare.
There is an astonishing turnout of nearly 600 vehicles around Portlaoise, where there is a long delay while the Cork contingent awaits the arrival of the Carlow/Kilkenny men.
Eventually, with minimum disruption to traffic, the cavalcade reaches Kill for an emotional welcome which involves tar barrels, television, more soup and cross women.
There is a general air of relaxation before the big push on the city on Friday.
Friday, January 10th: John Dillon admits he is nervous as the cavalcade heads towards Newland's Cross to sweep into the city with Garda outriders.
The drivers are anxiously looking and expecting adverse reaction in the city but it fails to materialise.
The route keeps the 300 tractors well away from the city centre when they arrive in Merrion Square, via the south city canal and Mount Street Bridge.
There they are met with more IFA soup before a speech from John Dillon and then back on their tractors to the five centres around the city.
The good news for the contingents who travelled the greatest distance is that their vehicles were being transported home by lorry. They won't miss seeing a tractor until they get home.
Finally, a tractor joke:
A man sitting in a smoky pub in Kerry is persuaded by other locals to do his trick.
He resists for a long time saying he has just come back from the IFA tractor protest to Dublin.
To the astonishment of the visitors, the man inhales his breath for about four minutes, clears all the smoke, goes outside and exhales the whole lot in a thick blue cloud.
The man then explains to the visitors that he no longer likes doing the trick because he is now an ex-tractor fan.