Look North and let pomp gild bailout experience

NEWTON OPTIC:NORTHERN IRELAND receives a £10 billion bailout from Britain every year, and a certain degree of ceremony has grown up around the occasion.

As the Republic prepares to welcome a similar gift allow me, as a Northerner, to explain what you can expect.

Physically, the bailout consists of a 40-foot container full of £100 notes. This is because the tradition dates back to before electronic transfers. It also relates to the way Bank of England notes perform the same function in Belfast as gold once did in England. However, I only mention this because it’s high time Northern economics confused you for a change.

For many years our bailout arrived on board the Royal Yacht Britannia, but this ceased when the vessel was decommissioned. Some readers, especially in Co Louth, may find this confusing so I should explain when the British decommission something they really do decommission it, rather than just hiding it for a bit then selling it to some guys they used to work with.

Today, rather disappointingly, our bailout arrives on an ordinary ferry flying the Royal Standard. However, the formality of the day is still otherwise strictly observed.

Celebrations begin with the piping of the container ashore by the band of Her Majesty’s hussars. The container is received by a delegation comprising the lord mayor of Belfast, the high sheriff of Stormont and the lord lieutenant of Ulster. This part of the ceremony may need to be adjusted slightly in the South, perhaps by including a priest.

Next, the first and deputy first ministers step forward to accept a key to the container. In Dublin this part of the ceremony could be performed by the taoiseach and the tánaiste, or any two of your current tribal elders.

The key is inserted into the great padlock of state and the doors are thrown open, to let money spill out onto the dock. At this point it is customary for all those assembled to say “Ooooh”!

A symbolic bundle of notes is placed on a gold cushion and presented for inspection to the guild of public sector unions. This part of the ceremony will not need to be altered in Dublin at all.

The rest of the bundles are loaded by liveried footmen onto the royal statelet coach, which on this occasion is harnessed to a team of ordinary taxpayers, representing the nominal contribution Northern Ireland makes to its own upkeep. The coach is then drawn through the streets of Belfast to the cheers of a grateful populace, or at least of half the populace.

Finally, the money is hauled up the hill to Stormont. As an army of butlers carries the money down to the vaults, a proclamation is read out by the minister of finance promising Her Majesty that one day it will be paid back.

But don’t worry, Southern readers. We never mean it either.