WHO said canvassing was hard work? It's a beautiful Thursday evening, the views of the Stack Mountains are picturepostcard perfect and Terry O'Brien is in full flow. The Labour candidate for Kerry North is simply a riot. Move over Stembridge and Cooper, the jokes are coming faster than Kerry scores in an All Ireland final against Mayo.

As he crosses a green area in the estate in his motorised wheelchair, O'Brien likens it to a tractor-mower and worries aloud that his constituents may think he's taking his job too seriously in cutting the grass as well. When a dog bares its teeth at the Labour canvassers, O'Brien roars: "They can chew my legs away, it won't have any effect on me". Moments later, he spots a house named 'Anfield Road' and the Man U fan is off again . . . "Now in fairness, they must be depressed after last night [Liverpool's defeat to Chelsea]."

We are in Caherslee, a 10-minute walk from the centre of Tralee. In his boyhood, Dick Spring played football on fields here, but today it is part of the bustling and ever-expanding town. And now the former tanaiste is pounding concrete instead of grass in his efforts to get O'Brien elected. The word from Kerry in recent months was that Spring was putting in a huge effort for O'Brien and tonight bears that out. For good measure, his sister Maeve and his nephew are also present . . . a Spring tide, 2007-style.

Double act The former foreign minister and would-be TD make an unlikely double act, but there is an unmistakable chemistry between them.

Spring is clearly enjoying being back in the game, even if (or perhaps because) it's only in a supporting role. "Revenue Commissioners, " he shouts through the open door of one house. O'Brien shakes his head: "Where did we get him?"

O'Brien's brother Tom is back from Poland to help out on the campaign. "Anybody asking for me out there?" Spring asks with mock self-importance. "Yeah, Lech Walesa, " says Tom, deadpan.

Although he is not shy about slagging him, O'Brien's respect for Spring is obvious. He speaks in almost awed tones about Spring's standing in the area and the importance of his support, laughing at the number of constituents who come up and say "Aren't you coming back?" "I'm like: 'hello! I'm here."

Despite his indefatigable good humour, it hasn't been an easy few days for O'Brien. It might have been thought that the spotlight would be on his main rival, Martin Ferris, who was arrested on suspicion of drink driving in the early hours of last Sunday morning. But the 'What were you thinking?' banner headline on the front page of the Tralee edition of the Kerryman was aimed at O'Brien, and eight other town councillors, rather than Ferris, whose embarrassment was dealt with on page 7. Their sin? O'Brien and the other councillors voted against (yes, against) a material contravention of the Tralee town plan that would have seen Marks and Spencer open in the the Manor West retail park on the outskirts of town.

In an ideal world, councillors would be rewarded for taking an all-too-rare tough decision on solid planning grounds to protect the town centre. But Irish politics is far from ideal and the councillors have been feeling the heat.

'Tralee Town Council should hang its head in shame, ' was the conclusion of the Kerryman comment piece bemoaning the loss of jobs, investment and rates. It does come up at the doorsteps, particularly with women voters.

"They're very good employers. I'm totally disgusted, " one woman says.

O'Brien, though bruised, can see the funny side, joking that when he got home on the night of the count his own wife said: "How did you vote and where are you sleeping?" but adds more seriously: "She understands my logic and is very supportive". Later talking effusively about the birth 100 days earlier ("but who's counting?") of their twins, he says coming home to them after a tough meeting like last Monday's "puts all this into perspective".

Although O'Brien warns that as a "Naire" (a member of Kerins O'Rahillys GAA club), he is now in Austin Stack's territory, the reaction at the doorsteps is warm and there are plenty of offers of cups of tea and, more importantly, promises of support. "Hi Terence, how are you, honey?" asks one woman. "There's no problem [with the vote] and that's sincere, " another constituent tells him.

But we are in Kerry: humour is ever present.

"How's life?" Spring asks one man. "Well at least I don't have you ringing me looking for favours, " comes the caustic reply.

The difficulties that wheelchair users face every day in Ireland are evident. Although we are in a brand new housing estate, O'Brien notes there are no dished pavements, making it difficult for him to get around. When he struggles to get across a gravel driveway, he laughs that it's "a four-by-four that I need" before challenging a young boy on a scooter to a race.

Spring promises that, by the end of the campaign, every house in the constituency will have been visited twice. "I'm going through the tyre rubber, Dick is going through shoe leather, " O'Brien says.

Across town the next day it is clear that his main rival is also going through a fair bit of shoe leather. We are in a new local authority estate, one of the most advanced in the country . . . the houses have solar panels and geothermal heating . . . but the area has had teething problems, with a couple of houses already vacant. It's in estates like this across Ireland that Sinn Fein has been steadily building its support. Martin Ferris has started a residents' association here to help build a sense of community.

If O'Brien and Spring are a double act, here it's a case of Ferris & Ferris. Martin's daughter, Toireasa, a county councillor herself, is organising proceedings with maximum efficiency. She is clutching a clipboard that lists the names of every householder and every person on the register in that house. A mark is put beside those houses where the door is unanswered so they can be revisited.

Ferris senior, meanwhile, is busy pressing the flesh. Looking like a younger, bearded Paul Newman (no Cool Hand Luke jokes please), he is recognised by everyone. It's clear that Ferris will get a big vote in Rathoraigh . . . assurances of a number one come thick and fast . . . but that doesn't prevent some teasing about events last weekend. "I hope they don't be too hard on you, " says one woman.

Everyday issues The election debate nationally may be about the likes of stamp duty and tax cuts, but here the issues are more rooted in everyday life. One house has a draught coming through the window; in another there is a serious sound-proofing problem and there are numerous queries about securing new housing and rent allowance.

Notes are taken of each and potential solutions offered or promised.

"You're the only one who worked with me for the house, " says one woman, guaranteeing Ferris her support. "Will you look after us?" Ferris asks another woman. "I will if you look after me, " she replies.

It's not all work though, and there is plenty of banter. "Are they all Republicans?" Ferris asks a woman with a young baby and an infant by her side. "They are, " she assures him. "Bye bye guards, " another little boy roars after the canvassing team and it's quickly clear the comment is aimed at the Sunday Tribune (memo to self:

burn that navy blue suit). A young man is introduced to Ferris as Tyson. "Are you a good boxer?" asks the TD. The reaction suggests Tyson has heard that line a million times before.

Talking afterwards, Ferris says he would never describe himself as a politician but as a political activist. "I'm not careerist. I believe in making a difference for those on the lower end of the scale." He says the reaction to his arrest has been "fierce sympathetic" because "people who know me know I'm not a drinker". But he is "disappointed and embarrassed" with himself for having any drink while driving. While he hopes he will get the all-clear from the test results, "if it goes the other way, I will accept responsibility and take it on the chin". As for the election, he says nobody is certain of a seat but "I couldn't have worked harder".

KERRY NORTH (3 SEATS) CANDIDATES Fianna Fail: Tom McEllistrim TD, Norma Foley Fine Gael: Jimmy Deenihan TD Labour Party: Terry O'Brien Sinn Fein: Martin Ferris TD Green Party: David Grey Independents: Anthony Dineen, Sam Locke, Morgan Stack FIRST COUNT (Elected) T McEllistrim III FF 7,884 2nd count M Ferris SF 9,496 2nd count D Spring Lab 8,773 J Deenihan FG 8,652 3rd count D Kiely FF 3,927 J Kennedy IHA 233 A O'Connor Ind 208 Total valid 39,173 70.6% Spoilt votes 351 0.9% Total poll 39,524 71.2% 2002 GENERAL ELECTION First preferences Fianna Fail 11,811 30.15% Fine Gael 8,652 22.09% Labour Party 8,773 22.40% Sinn Fein 9,496 24.24% Others 441 1.13% >> SF gain from Labour THERE are certain bellwether constituencies that can be used as a yardstick for how an election will turn out, but Kerry North could never be regarded as one of them. The general election won't turn on the outcome here, but that doesn't make it any less fascinating.

There are four obvious front runners but only three seats. Somebody's going to be seriously disappointed. The question is, who? To borrow a technique from the Who wants to be a millionaire? game show, going 50-50 removes Fianna Fail TD Tom McEllistrim and Fine Gael deputy Jimmy Deenihan from the equation.

It would be an exaggeration to say that hell will freeze over before Kerry North fails to return a Fianna Fail TD, but not by much. McEllistrim, rather than the second candidate Norma Foley, should take that FF seat. Deenihan, a member of that legendary Kerry team of the '70s and '80s, is based in the north of the constituency and has geography on his side.

That leaves Sinn Fein's Martin Ferris, who stormed to victory in 2002, and Labour's Terry O'Brien "ghting for the third seat. The odds re"ect the tightness of the race: Ferris is virtually unbackable at 2-7, while O'Brien is available at only marginally longer odds of 8-11. Shane Coleman