It was late January 1996, and the legendary founder of GPA and Ryanair had agreed to my request for an interview. While this was something of a coup for a young hack, I was also acutely conscious that Ryan had a reputation for not suffering fools gladly.

As something of a greenhorn in the world of business journalism, I was nervous about how the next couple of hours would go.

It probably didn't help that the surroundings were as impressive as Ryan's CV. The ancestral home of the Prittie Family had been rebuilt in the 1920s as a single-storey villastyle residence. The ranchhouse effect was augmented by the presence of a herd of Blonde d'Aquataine cattle grazing in the surrounding lands.

It was Ryan himself who greeted me at the door. Perhaps it was because I was seen as a journalist who was supportive of the Ryanair ethos, but my fears about what was in store quickly dissipated. He was charming, friendly and down-to-earth.

Alas I didn't get to see the famous vaulted basement, home to some magnificent pieces of art and the offices from which the GPA empire was often run in its heyday.

However, Ryan did give me a brief tour of the ground floor, pointing out a few paintings, which even to my shockingly untrained eye were stunning.

Over lunch, the conversation quickly turned to business. It must have been a difficult few years for Ryan.

The GPA dream had imploded. His name wasn't even included in the 1996 Sunday Times Irish Rich List.

But that was very much a temporary phenomenon:

Ryan was absolutely unbowed and brimming with ideas and passion for business. What would become his greatest business legacy, Ryanair, had turned the corner after a difficult first few years, although it is doubtful that even he realised at that point that it would grow into one the world's leading airlines.

Just months before our meeting, the Ryanair chairman had floated the radical proposal of developing a second airport for Dublin at Baldonnel. Following intense lobbying from Aer Rianta, the Rainbow coalition had vetoed the idea and Ryan was keen to keep the idea alive, hence the interview. He criticised the government's stance on the issue, insisting his plan would lead to the creation of 10,000 jobs.

"Who would fly into Dublin airport if there was an alternative?" he asked. Aer Rianta was "absolutely and totally" the reason the Baldonnel proposal hadn't gone ahead and the whole issue had become mired in politics.

The formal interview concluded, he was happy to chat away about business and politics, recounting some hilarious anecdotes about his time as shareholder at this newspaper . . . unfortunately all off the record. Only once did he show the tiniest hint of impatience towards the novice reporter. As a nervous flier, I too eagerly seized on a throwaway comment he made about some hairy moments he had endured while travelling the globe by plane. He cut off my interest at the pass, telling me he would recount them to me on another occasion . . . next question.

When the time came for me to leave, Ryan politely walked me to my car and waved me off. I drove back to Dublin chuffed at my brush with business greatness. I got an even bigger thrill a few days later when I heard back that the interview, which was published in the following Saturday's Irish Independent, had been essential reading on the Ryanair flight chartered by Ryan to fly 100 close family members and friends to Marrakesh to celebrate his 60th birthday.

Tony Ryan revolutionised air travel in Ireland by setting up Ryanair, but thinking back to that interview, I've often marvelled at how far ahead of its time was his plan for a second independent airport for Dublin, and how welcome it would have proved.