On the campaign trail: Simon Coveney's search for votes has had to negotiate many hurdles, writes Mark Hennessy.
Early yesterday morning in Kinsale, Co Cork, a town sleepy at the end of a busy bank holiday weekend, Simon Coveney canvassed energetically in search of European Parliament votes.
Voters were easy to come by, but, before noon at least, they were more likely to be from the United Kingdom, the Netherlands, or France, than Ireland.
Even if they were Irish, not many of the early risers, bar those working in shops, or pubs, could cast their ballot in the South constituency, where Coveney is carrying Fine Gael's standard.
"No worries. Tourism is important in a town like Kinsale," said the Cork South Central TD, as he chatted amiably with two middle-aged couples from Staffordshire.
When found having coffee in the Blue Haven Hotel, one local, Mary Cummins, apologised profusely: "I'm not going to be much use to you. We're going to be away on holidays," she said.
Faced with holidaymakers from Carlow, Wexford and Dublin, Coveney instinctively searched for votes for Gay Mitchell, Avril Doyle, or Mairead McGuinness.
"Gay's a good man, tries to do the right thing," he told a Dublin couple, while a Carlow family was told, "We have two strong candidates in your area, Avril and Mairead. You might try and look after them."
The confidence level in the Coveney campaign, buoyed by poll results, is high, but nothing is being taken for granted by the farmer-turned-politician.
In 2002, he nearly lost his Cork South Central seat when he encouraged some of his most loyal supporters to vote for his running mate, Deirdre Clune, in a bid to take two FG seats.
The lesson has been learnt. One man tells him, "You'll be all right, Simon."
Coveney replies, "The polls told me the last time that I was on 20 per cent, and I ended up with 10 per cent."
To some, he is too young to be setting his sights on the European Parliament - an attitude he finds little short of baffling.
"I have never believed that people should only go to the European Parliament after a long national political career. It is nonsense that it should be seen as a retirement home.
"People should go to Europe when their motivation and enthusiasm are highest. And they should go back and forth between national and European politics," he said.
If he wins on Friday, he will serve his full five-year term, and give up his Cork South Central Dáil seat when the next general election comes around.
He could quit the Dáil earlier if he finds that he cannot manage the load in the meantime, though he said: "I would be slow to cause a by-election and I think I can manage it.
"I would not be standing if I did not want this job. I think it could be a fascinating five years," said Coveney, who will still only be 36 at the end of that period.
Questioned by a Northern woman in the Supervalu store, Coveney, though unfailingly polite, stands his ground.
"We would not have peace in the North if it wasn't for Sinn Féin," said the woman, Anne Fitzsimons, who has lived in Kinsale for years.
Coveney insists: "At some point, parties have to choose between politics and paramilitarism."
Five minutes later, the two are still deeply engaged in conversation, while Coveney's canvassers shuffled their feet, impatient to be on the way again.
Leaving on good terms with Mrs Fitzsimons, Coveney makes no apologies for delaying the team's progress. "There are some things that I will not compromise on," he tells them.
Outside, Fine Gael's Cork South West TD, Jim O'Keeffe, has joined the group, which includes outgoing Cork County Council member Kevin Murphy and town councillor Dermot Collins.
"This is going fabulously well," said O'Keeffe. "For a party that was supposed to be dead, we are surprising even ourselves. I reckon we will be over 40 per cent in this constituency, a level we have not seen since Garret's day."
Entering one of Kinsale's most famous hostelries, The White House, Fred Treacy, another of Fine Gael's town council candidates, quips: "This is a great Fianna Fáil house."
Nevertheless, Coveney, whose father, Hugh, served in the Rainbow Government, is warmly welcomed: "If you are as good a man as your father was you'll do fine," one woman declared. "That's nice to hear," said Coveney, who ran for the Dáil after his father was killed in a cliff fall while walking the family dog.
By now, the team has split up under the command of John "Sullie" O'Sullivan, O'Keeffe's election agent, to canvass the mushrooming housing estates on the hills overlooking the town.
"Sullie's a dynamo. He gets canvassers so worked up you'd swear they were going to play a county final. He orchestrates everything," said O'Keeffe.
Heading for the memorial to the Battle of Kinsale, Coveney and O'Keeffe encountered another middle-aged couple taking their ease on a bench.
"Good morning. Where are you from?" asked O'Keeffe. "We're from the Midlands," the husband, clearly surprised by the presence of politicians of any hue, replied.
An effort to plug Doyle and McGuinness halted when O'Keeffe quickly realised that the couple meant the English Midlands. "Ah, the other Midlands," he said, laughing.
Heading for the pier, Coveney's press agent is in search of a photo opportunity with fishermen, though the crew of the first boat had disappeared by the time they arrived.
Coveney quickly hurries over to the next trawler where two foreign fishermen, carrying out some light repairs, look on bemusedly when hailed by him.
"We're politicians," he called out, "We're trying to get a photograph with some fishermen." Still slightly confused, the two, nevertheless, gladly obliged.
In the face of such politeness, it is hard to refuse.