It would be wrong to say that there was general apathy about Ian Paisley's historic handshake with Bertie Ahern, but it wouldn't be that wrong.

Let's just take a second to consider what happened at Farmleigh on Wednesday morning.

Ian Paisley got out of his car, bellowed a "good morning" to the assembled media; told them that he had "to shake this man's hand" and then gave the Taoiseach the type of handshake that can only be described as the polar opposite of wet fish.

This is Ian Paisley we're talking about here. Dr 'No, No, No', Reverend 'Never, Never, Never'. The man who threw snowballs at Sean Lemass when he had the audacity to visit the North; the man who organised mass rallies when the AngloIrish Agreement was signed; the man who shouted abuse at the pope when he was addressing the European Parliament;

the man who railed against the Good Friday Agreement nine years ago; etc, etc, etc.

Yet here he was making a friendly visit to the Irish state and talking about how hedges do not make the best neighbours.

It was wonderful to behold. No, it wasn't the united Ireland that some of us . . . and let's face it, it's only some of us; the vast majority of Irish people are more interested in whether Man U can regain the Premiership after a four-year gap . . . still aspire to. But it was still pretty special. Being totally hard headed about it, it's difficult to know how realistic a United Ireland is given the enormous economic cost of replacing the multi-billion pound subvention from the British government; the general disinterest among much of the populace in the south and the still strong opposition from the majority unionist population in the North. But it is impossible to argue that the chances were greater 20 years ago when the IRA campaign looked like it would never end and Paisley was fulminating about the papist, priest-ridden Republic.

Imagine if, back then, somebody had told you that the DUP leader would one day drive to Dublin as First Minister-inwaiting of a devolved Northern government, with Martin McGuinness as his deputy, and warmly shake hands with the Taoiseach. To say you would have been laughed at is something of an understatement.

Because the Peace Process has dragged on for so long, we have lost sight of the miraculous progress that has been made.

The first IRA ceasefire in 1994 was a source of genuine joy and the Good Friday Agreement four years later certainly excited people. But the countless minor setbacks since then have prompted people in the south to switch off. The IRA has decommissioned (yawn); Sinn Fein are ready to back policing (stretch); the DUP will go into government with Sinn Fein (really? now pass the remote control).

Of course, it would have been better if it had all happened quicker. It would also have been preferable if the middle-ground parties like the SDLP and the UUP had been able to retain the support of the majority of voters. But, so typically of conflict resolution situations, it is only the hardliners who can deliver peace.

Let's face facts, it wasn't particularly fascinating when David Trimble shook hands with Bertie Ahern, but for Ian Paisley to do so is something else altogether.

Perhaps I'm getting sentimental as I career at alarming speed into middle age but I felt a lump in my throat last Wednesday morning as I witnessed that event. It's been happening quite a bit recently actually: listening to 'God Save the Queen' in Croke Park and a few weeks later watching the Irish soccer team line out in front of the Hogan Stand . . . no more than the Paisley handshake, did we ever think that those two events would ever happen? And there was that amazing feature on Radio One's Morning Ireland before St Patrick's Day which interviewed new Irish citizens from countries like Nigeria. I listened, marvelled and surprised myself by feeling quite emotional and proud as they declared their allegiance to the Irish state.

In the days when tens of thousands of people a year were emigrating and government ministers were saying that, despite us being one of the most sparsely populated countries in Europe, the island was too small to support all our people, who could ever have envisaged us one day having the highest rate of immigration per capita in the world?

I wouldn't for one moment say that we should go around the place in a state of permanent state of self-congratulation. And this isn't an argument for or against a change of government in the upcoming general election. No more than any country in western Europe, there are serious problems to be addressed. But, without wishing to come across too po-faced, we seem to be taking the massive changes and improvements that occurred here completely for granted. The Ireland today . . .

peaceful, prosperous and more progressive . . . would have been regarded as some kind of nirvana 20 years ago. Yet fury and anger seem to almost be the default emotions on phone-in radio shows these days;

apathy is widespead among the population. And that is genuinely sad. Because, some days this small little rock on the edge of Europe isn't a bad place to live.

And, f**k the begrudgers: for me, last Wednesday was certainly one of those days. Happy Easter, Dr Paisley.