The Dáil’s distinguished visitors’ gallery has no distinguishing features. Apart, obviously, from its occasional occupants.

This little VIP pocket, with its sad brown leather seats, is tucked high into a corner on the back wall of the chamber, snug underneath the overhang of the public gallery.

Its few short rows afford a sideways view down into the gladiatorial pit where Ireland’s sharpest political minds engage in rhetorical battle, their thrilling clashes regularly imbuing citizens with immeasurable pride in the democratic process.

That’s what the programme notes would say if TDs wrote them. The gallery, while hardly providing the best seats in the House, nonetheless allows its patrons an enchanting view.

If they look straight ahead, they can gaze all the way along the magnificence of the back line that is the press gallery, which is sometimes nearly almost fully occupied.

Those times during Leaders’ Questions, when the courtly ushers gently squeeze another delegation of overseas parliamentarians into the special space reserved for notables, it’s always entertaining to watch their expectant faces as they settle in for the Irish parliament’s daily white-knuckle ride.

They may only see the back of the Taoiseach’s head, but that’s not a major problem. During this set-piece, nothing much happens around the other side of it either.

The visiting public representatives – it might be a government minister and entourage, or a House Speaker with a selection of cross-party MPs on a junk . . , oops, fact-finding trip to another parliament, look around with great interest when they arrive. And you can’t help wondering what they are thinking.

Where is everybody? The Irish are great crack, this should be fun. Why is it so dull? Where's Gerry Adams? Isn't the place very small? Why are they all reading from scripts? Oh look, there's Gerry Adams! God, this isn't great. Our crowd is better. Our chamber is miles more impressive. When do we do the Guinness tour?

Important crowd

There was a very important crowd due in yesterday afternoon. The Chinese. They were due to call in for a look at Leaders’ Questions.

Everyone hoped they wouldn't arrive until after the Fianna Fáil leader had finished his contribution. Just in case he decided to treat them to his famous impersonation of a Chinese accent.

It didn’t go well for him the last time he innocently tried to do one. That was back in 2011, at the Web Summit.

Thankfully, the VIPs didn’t arrive when he was quizzing the Taoiseach about the funding problems of Institutes of Technologies around the country.

Meanwhile, a member of the Independent Alliance appeared to be interpreting a major moment in Chinese history for the Taoiseach when he sat beside him throughout the session.

“Did I miss something, or did he get promoted?” asked Micheál, noting the presence of Kevin “Boxer” Moran in the ministerial seats.

Boxer will be a junior minister in the not-too-distant future, having agreed, on the toss of a coin, that his colleague Seán Canney should be Minister of State at the OPW for the first half of the Government’s term with him taking over in the second half.

Boxer Rebellion?

Was this a Boxer Rebellion? But no. There was an empty seat beside Enda when Leaders’ Questions was beginning and he motioned to Boxer, who had been sitting on his own in the next section, to come over and join him.

Gerry Adams asked about the public service, sounding like the Labour Party would sound when worrying about the concerns of civil and public sector workers.

The Sinn Féin benches had plenty of TDs to agree with their leaders’ remarks.

A lone Labour backbencher, Seán Ryan, was the only member of his party in the chamber to hear him. Gerry accused Micheál Martin of “macho posturing.” Micheál looked delighted.

It’s not every day that happens. He smirked to himself, looked up to the journalists, and smirked again.

Margaret Murphy-O’Connor, who had been in the chair beside her leader, quietly crept out of the chamber. Still no sign of the VIP delegation. Gerry sat down. Mattie McGrath stood up.

And then the double doors at the top of the chamber opened and the expected eminences – over a dozen strong – took their seats. One of their party stepped back briefly to photograph the group in the chamber.

They were lucky, because Mattie is billeted at the opposite side to the VIP gallery, so they could look down and see him head on.

The Independent TD for Tipperary was building up quite a head of steam over the cost of building the new Children’s Hospital.

It was already costing “milluns and milluns and milluns” shrieked Mattie, who kept referring to a “runaway train”.

This train may have been going fast but nothing like mile-a-minute Mattie. You could see the distinguished visitors (those with perfect English) were straining to make out what language this very excited man was speaking. They weren’t on their own.

The Ceann Comhairle interrupted at a natural break in McGrath’s passionate soliloquy.

“Before proceeding, I wish on my own behalf and on behalf of all Members of Dáil Éireann to offer céad míle fáilte – a 100,000 welcomes, and a most sincere welcome at that – to members of the National People’s Congress of the People’s Republic of China, led by HE Mr Ji Binxuan, and other members of the parliamentary group.

“I express the hope they will continue to find their visit enjoyable, successful and to our mutual benefit.”

There were ushers and minders everywhere, with an overflow from the touring party sitting upstairs in the public gallery, behind a blue roped-off area. There were more Irish and Chinese officials outside the main door to the Dáil chamber.

Mr Ji stood and smiled as the smattering of TDs (Sinn Féin and Fianna Fáil managed a good turnout, the rest hardly mustered at all) applauded.

He clasped his hands together in a gesture of appreciation and nodded his thanks.

Mattie resumed where he left off, but not before telling the Ceann Comhairle “you stopped my train.”

That was a clear fib, as nothing can stop Mattie’s train of thought when he’s in full flow.

Train line through Tipp

Perhaps these references to rolling stock were more to do with constituency rival

Alan Kelly

and the story of the train line through Tipp which he championed when in government. It costs €550 per passenger to run.

Mr Ji, who is vice chairman of the standing committee of the People’s Congress, had a clear view along the press gallery, where the galley slaves were hunched, listlessly, over their notebooks.

This might explain why one of the Leinster House generals dispatched an usher to order Vincent Browne to remove his newspaper from the ledge in front of him immediately. It was a copy of yesterday’s Irish Times.

Slightly dog-eared. Browne, nonplussed, put it under his chair.

Ireland, putting on a show of strength for the visitors. That’ll have impressed the Chinese.