You have to hand it to Labour. They have an impeccable sense of style.
Where would be more appropriate for ageing - and young - socialists to contemplate their future than by the lapping waters of Lough Derg.
It was a splendid autumn day in Dromineer, a picture-postcard village complete with yacht club and castle ruins on the shores of the Shannon in north Tipperary. A few million pounds worth of cruisers and yachts bobbed gently on the sparkling waters in view of the hotel, where about 16 members of the Parliamentary Labour Party had gathered for a think-in on Monday night and yesterday morning.
It was an inspired location, apparently the choice of Senator Kathleen O'Meara, one of the rising stars of Labour's firmament and a strong contender for a North Tipp seat in the next election.
Michael Bell, lately resigned chairman of the PLP, was conspicuous by his absence after his failure to be selected to stand in Leinster in the European election.
He had claimed, rather darkly, that the nomination had been decided even before the meeting took place in Tullamore on Sunday. But his leader, Ruairi Quinn, and colleagues in the PLP spoke only warmly of him yesterday.
As the Celtic Tiger purred around the Shannon, Ruairi and his deputy, Brendan Howlin, sat on wooden benches in the shade of the trees after the two days' end.
The Government was firmly in their rifle sights with a week to go before the Dail resumes.
This autumn they intend to make health care, or lack of it, the economy, or its inequities, the housing crisis and gridlock the main issues.
Charlie McCreevy's 1997 Budget had the effect in some instances of "throwing apples into orchards", said Dick Spring. The economy was good, but the Government was bad. Longer health queues, young people unable to buy their own homes, students without a roof because of exorbitant rents - Labour would become the champions of the needy.
After its think-in, the leadership was buoyant about the prospect of maximising its appeal.
But the media were wrapped up in thoughts of "merger", a word neither Labour nor Democratic Left wishes to use yet.
It is called a "process", "an alliance", even a "fusion".
Ruairi was not hiding his desire to see the two left-wing parties come together with their "common vision" at a date yet to be determined.
The sum of their two parts would be greater than if they hung separately, he said.
But, asked the journalists, wouldn't the merger inflict damage on his own people?
"Not necessarily," he replied. He was talking about a political force that would garner enough political support from the public. But Brendan was circumspect.
No deal was signed and sealed. It may be possible, maybe not, he cautioned, with an eye on those TDs and would-be deputies who fear the implications of a merger.
Nobody was expressing upset aloud.
It had been a "marvellous meeting", deputies said.
Who knows? The next time Ruairi Quinn comes to Dromineer maybe he and Proinsias or Pat or Liz can take a stroll together down the pier by the lovely river Shannon.