The Secret Diary of a Political Correspondent, aged 32¾

5:30am The alarm goes off, an abrupt start to a long day. Ireland AM is on air at 7am and your correspondent has to be in the city centre by then, ready for the day ahead.

6:05am I get into the car. It’s still dark outside as a thin rain sheets down across Dublin –summer is distinctly over. Thankfully the roads are still quiet and it takes only about 20 minutes to make a drive that could take up to an hour when the traffic picks up.

6:25am Arrive at the usual city centre car park. Bugger: the gates usually open at 6am but there’s no sign of life yet. Time is of the essence so I’m stuck with on-street car parking at the comfortable city centre rate of €3.20 per hour.

6:40am Walk, slightly soggy, through the side entrance of DIT on Aungier St. Although the meeting will take place at Government Buildings, the media (from both sides of the sea) must go through security screening off-site first.
This is inconvenient but sensible. Once upon a time there would be genuine reason to fear for the safety of a British prime minister visiting Dublin, and the approach has never relaxed over time. While other leaders can visit with less fuss – media covering Angela Merkel’s visit could merely walk down the street and through the gates on Merrion Street – the British premier comes with more concerns.
On some recent visits the good intention hasn’t quite prevailed. Covering the visit of Theresa May in January 2017 we were sent to Dublin Castle for airport-style screening, before getting buses back to Merrion Street… only for the bus to leave us 100 yards from the gate, sending reporters onto the pavement and through crowds of passing tourists before being ushered through the ‘secure’ gates without further checks.

7am Through security at DIT and onto Ireland AM. I’m in the 7am news and then a 7:15am live slot (just after John Bruton) offering thoughts on the day ahead. I suggest little reason to be optimistic for a big breakthrough – Leo Varadkar’s floated solution, a Northern Ireland-only backstop, requires an explicit u-turn from Boris Johnson that he mightn’t countenance.

7:25am Time for a debrief with the two Virgin Media cameramen sent with me for the story. The morning’s choreography is fairly tight – cameras seeking pictures from inside Leo Varadkar’s office, won’t be able to film the formal set-piece statements outside – so we need two separate cameras to capture the whole thing.

7:35am The buses begin lining up to bring the media to Government Buildings. It’s only a short drive but we’re not sure if we’ll arrive before we’re due on TV again, at the 8am news, so we record ‘as live’ piece to broadcast just in case.

8:20am Our caution is validated: we actually make it inside the gates on Merrion Street. We’re asked if we can do another live slot at 8:30am, which we do, but after that it’s time to record another ‘as live’. One cameraman needs to set up inside the Taoiseach’s office for interior shots, and the other has to take a spot on a podium from which I won’t be able to address the camera. Ireland AM are hoping to show the arrival live, but if he’s late, I won’t be able to address the camera for a live piece, so I record a substitute for filler.

9am There is no sign of Boris Johnson. We are told Johnson’s plane is only about to touch down. The producers sigh and rejig the running order for the next half hour.

9:39am Johnson’s motorcade sweeps through the gates of Merrion Street (inconsiderately, right in the middle of an Ireland AM ad break). The Prime Minister rolls out of his BMW in a blur of blonde vowel sounds, idly revealing an untucked shirt and baggy trousers tie. The two leaders step inside for a few seconds of getting-to-know-you while some podiums are mounted. It is already notable that ‘the principals’ will address the public before they get to speak to each other, and not afterwards. Our ad break ends, thankfully, and we carry the speeches live.
Varadkar doesn’t hold back. Little of what he says is new, but it’s so rare to hear a leader addressing another in such stark terms – how a legal guarantee (the backstop) can’t be replaced with mere platitudes, and so on. Johnson responds by gesticulating oddly and wildly, grinning as Varadkar says his task is Herculean but that Ireland will be his Athena. Google tells us that Athena offered vital help to Hercules to complete many of his mythical labours – but also had to knock him unconscious during one episode where he was about to murder his family. Nobody is quite sure which aspect Varadkar is going for.
Johnson’s reply is mild-mannered enough to recognise that for Ireland, Brexit is an unwanted policy with unwanted consequences. He discusses a plan to designate an all-island agri-food zone, but admits it doesn’t solve all the problems. He doesn’t suggest what will. In all, he addresses the questions without really answering them.
Upstairs, Johnson notes the signatures of Michel Barnier and Donald Trump in the visitors’ book, and seems more interested in the history of the building than in getting down to business.

10:15am Another quick Ireland AM hit, saying Ireland will be pleased with the sentiment of Johnson’s platitudes but will want to see more detail. This is vindicated by later contact with some witnesses to their meeting.

10:50am We’re still trapped in Government Buildings waiting to film Johnson’s departure. My phone battery is down to 16%, and I don’t have my usual power bank… and I’ve agreed to take a Skype call with a German station about this morning’s meeting. When they do call it’s already 13%, and only then do they tell me that the piece is for their TV wing and not their radio one – so I’ll need to consume even more battery with a video call. I improvise a stand on a wall outside Government Buildings and complete the call as my battery hits 1%.

11:11am Movement. The meeting is over after an hour, which seems slightly curt. Johnson bids farewell urging Varadkar to ‘give him a ring’. A shouted question inquiring about progress is met with a non-committal nod.

12:30pm Live into a main news bulletin. My phone miraculously survives for long enough to read a new statement where the two sides, unsurprisingly, confide that “significant gaps” remain in their positions.

12:52pm Back to the car after €19.20 spent topping up its on-street parking via app. The phone dies as I open the door. I sit inside for long enough to recharge the battery and ask the office about the plans for the 5:30 bulletin. We agree that I’ll go back to Ballymount and tie up a report summarising the day’s events.

4:33pm The report is pulled together and signed off. I head for home.

6:22pm After a bite to eat, I sit down to write a column, with no idea on what to write. Write about what you know, my mind says. Wandering, I spot a copy of The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole, aged 13¾ on the bookshelf. That seems like a good idea....