Alison O’Connor: We don’t want a president with skeletons in closet
I don't much like Northern Ireland. The last time I visited the North was a trip to IKEA in Belfast in early 2009 and since the Swedish flatpack superstore opened in Ballymun I haven't been back over the Border. In truth that's the way I like it.
There is no need to look any further, I hold my hand up and admit that I'm one of those "partitionist in my thinking" types that Martin McGuinness so dislikes. The 1998 referendum on the Good Friday Agreement dealing with the removal of the Republic's territorial claim to the North was no wrench to me. I reckon it's a murky little middle-class secret kept by myself and many others -- we feel we shouldn't think this way but we do -- that the North is not something we like to dwell on, let alone visit, and for this we feel guilty.
Not guilty enough, mind you, to do anything about it -- not unless there was an extra special weekend offer in a fabulous Belfast hotel. Even then though, it would be a push.