Last Saturday, I left the United Kingdom for the first time since long before the pandemic, a stay of less than 24 hours in Dublin flying from Exeter Airport. It was my father’s 92nd birthday party that afternoon; he’s been frail of late and it was important to get there.

I hadn’t flown from Exeter for many years, but what a wonderful place it remains from which to depart. The walk from parking to terminal takes about five minutes, passing through security another ten or so, then a very short walk to the plane itself.

This one had propellors, cuing the usual Biggles/better-flap-your arms jokes, but it got us across the Irish Sea in not much more than an hour. Dublin airport was buzzing. The city was hosting a huge rugby match between Leinster and La Rochelle, which the Irish team narrowly lost. Late that night, I was out with one of my brothers in Blackrock in Dublin Bay where the elixir of a tandoori and a fair bit of Guinness had left the streets lined with defeated but still very happy souls.

My dad’s party was a joy. Despite his frailty, he relished being the centre of attention from a family of five children, 17 grandchildren and now three great grandchildren. He’d had the great honour of having cream tea the day before with the Irish President, Michael D Higgins, to whom he had been a friend and political mentor for many years.

As ever, the Irish were keen to hear the perspective from England. They were very polite about it, making gentle enquiries about how it felt over here to be out of Europe. The tone was as if they were asking if I was okay having left the handbrake off in the car and it sinking into a canal. They were amazed and sympathetic but also wondering what we were going to do about it.

They weren’t crowing, but Ireland’s Gross Domestic Product grew 12% last year with official estimates of at least 5% annually over the foreseeable future. The UK meanwhile has been teetering on the edge of recession which we have avoided by the skin of our teeth.

The Irish aren’t gloating about this; it does them no good for their nearest neighbours to be diminished. But they just can’t process why we aren’t alarmed, or indeed up in arms, about it.

And then on Sunday the 7.10am flight back to Exeter. The sun was out by then, and it was beautiful to look down as we crossed South Wales, the Bristol Channel and Exmoor before descending into Exeter from the west, with the Exe estuary sparking to the south.

As the miles passed below, I could see acre after acre of farmland, reminding me (in the week of the excellent County Show) how important agriculture is to Devon, East Devon as much as anywhere.

It's said anecdotally that the majority of farmers voted Leave, mainly because they were exhausted by EU bureaucracy, and because they were promised a great new world of exporting across the globe. With honourable exceptions the latter has not happened, 7 years on, and there has been little clarity of the new frameworks within which agriculture can push on. As John Major used to say, warm words butter no parsnips.

There are belated signs that the PM is getting involved. Mr Sunak invited delegates from food, farming and retail industries to a “Food Summit” on Tuesday last week. Long overdue, it is nevertheless a welcome start. British people, in or out of the EU, want to have food security and to support our farmers as sustainably as possible. It’s that kind of collaborative approach the country now needs. The Irish wish us well.