Geography is a strange thing. In its most basic form it is about natural formations, the boundaries described by mountain ranges, rivers and seas.
But mankind's urge to make things simpler by making them more complicated has furnished us with a vast array of political subdivisions: counties, provinces, townlands and parishes. But the key thing about geography is the precise location of events. This is important because it is often the location of an event that is more significant than the event itself.
The peace process has demonstrated the power of location like little else in this country's history. The speeches President Clinton and, on Thursday, the British Prime Minister, Tony Blair, delivered could have been broadcast from the Capitol building or the Houses of Parliament. And they wouldn't have made very much difference.
Neither speech contained anything desperately new or terribly unexpected. Neither speech contained anything approaching the epoch-defining phrases we have heard from this century's great orators. Nothing of the power of John F. Kennedy's "Ask not what your country can do for you" or Winston Churchill's "We will fight them on the beaches".
What mattered was that these two men travelled to Ireland to make these speeches. The fact that they were here made the words themselves almost irrelevant while, curiously, causing commentators and pundits worldwide to try to extract every ounce of meaning from them.
The proof of this particular pudding is in your memory. Can you remember any single sentence from Bill Clinton's speeches when he visited? My guess is that apart from the phrases "I did not inhale" and "I did not have sexual relations with that woman" you won't be able to remember a single word ever uttered by the current US President.
In a couple of weeks you won't remember a thing that the British Prime Minister said either. But you will remember that he came here, that he was the first of his kind to address a joint sitting of the Houses of the Oireachtas, and that is really what was significant.
I said the speech he delivered was almost irrelevant. Almost, but not quite. It was important that he not put his foot in it and that the words be delivered with aplomb. They were, because Tony Blair has some clever speech-writers working for him. I was lucky enough to get a copy of the text and it made interesting reading. Every word he spoke, including the asides like "I think", were part of the script.
Quite a lot of what is on those pages is ungrammatical; some of it bears only a passing resemblance to the queen's English. That is because the script-writers understand the written word and are familiar with Blair's speech patterns.
Very few of us speak in perfect prose, and Tony Blair is no exception. He has a peculiar, breathy, staccato delivery punctuated by his trademark grin, the occasional frown and, every so often, a strangely blank stare that is supposed to convey the profundity of the thought he has just expressed. His speech was written with all of these points in mind and delivered perfectly.
Over the last 48 hours the gurus have had a great time considering the weight and import of Blair's concentration on our shared destiny in Europe, his eagerness to recognise how closely our two nations have been knitted together by our geographical proximity and by our people. And you can't blame them really - it's what they are paid to do. But there is only so much meaning you can extract from these nice ideas designed not to offend anyone.
What mattered more was what happened in the less formal moments. Bertie Ahern and Tony Blair chatted, they stood close together without any worry about encroaching on each other's personal space. Their body language indicated that these men are friends. They genuinely get on well together.
Contrast how they behave around each other with, for example, Bill Clinton and Boris Yeltsin. Bertie and Tony are pals, Boris and Bill are political allies. Boris and Bill need to be seen to get on. They have to show warmth and demonstrate their closeness while it is perfectly obvious they have no real connection, no common ground at all.
We have seen in the past how important the closeness between leaders can be. Without Albert Reynolds's and John Major's personal friendship this whole peace process would never have got off the ground. With so many obstacles, so many forces operating to prevent progress, personal trust and mutual encouragement are vital elements in overcoming the odds.
Tony Blair's visit also helped to reassure those of us who, following his election, cast our minds back to previous Labour governments and their attitude to the "Irish question". Their track record had not been a good one, but this is "New Labour", a fact it would be difficult to escape knowing. He even managed to slip the words into his speech at one point. And this new Labour Party has an extraordinarily positive attitude to Northern Ireland. Again a friendship is probably at the root of this, Tony's relationship with Mo Mowlam.
Perhaps the most reassuring aspect of the visit is that it showed that our leaders understood what Ralph Waldo Emerson was talking about when he said: "In skating over thin ice, our safety is in our speed." The peace process has always been about skating on thin ice.
The peace that has been established is a fragile thing. While the politicians are able to keep up their momentum, to keep the process moving along, the peace will be maintained. Right now, the process has slowed down alarmingly.
Tony Blair's visit has created some momentum. Now is our opportunity to help build it. Seamus Mallon talked about setting deadlines. He was right. George Mitchell showed us the power of publicly-set deadlines when the negotiations on the Good Friday agreement were foundering. Nothing focuses the mind like an immovable deadline, and if that is what it takes to keep the hopes of the people of this island alive, then let us set them right away.