The Rev Ian Paisley is running late, and his supporters wait in downtown Ballymena like nervous bridegrooms. It's a big occasion when the local MP and saviour of the province arrives for a canvass.
The weather is glorious. "The sun is shining, and God is smiling on Dr Paisley," a female follower explains. The DUP workers wear their election best. There are red-white-and-blue shirts, Red Hand of Ulster ties, Orange sweaters, and numerous Union Flag badges. The wife of one elderly man picks fluff from his suit. "Are you dusting your wee man down for the Big Man?" her friend says.
Another canvasser, just finished work, apologises for his dusty jeans. A woman scolds: "It's good to see a man not afraid of work."
Dr Paisley arrives, an hour late, but who would dare tell him off? He loves elections. Smiling and suntanned, he is in fighting form.
Thursday is "Ulster's destiny day". The Ulster Unionist leadership are traitors. The DUP alone can be trusted.
Loyalist Ballymena is Dr Paisley's turf. At every street corner there is an outstretched hand and friendly face. The DUP leader waves at women eating cream buns in a cafe and they wave back. "A fine figure of a man," says Molly Gibson approvingly.
Dr Paisley charms the ladies. "How are you, dearest?" he says. Many recall previous meetings. It can be up to 20 years ago, but they remember the details like it was yesterday.
The DUP leader pats children on the head and asks their mothers if they are enjoying their ice-creams. He urges one young woman to make sure she is not out gallivanting late on Wednesday but has a good night's sleep and gets up early to vote on Thursday.
Not everyone in Ballymena is impressed with Dr Paisley. "How are you?" he says to a mild-looking middle-aged man. "None of your business, you big shite," comes the reply. A disabled ex-serviceman tells Paisley he is a trouble-maker. A young man tells him loudly to go elsewhere, in impolite terms.
The most persistent opposition comes from a Cullybackey pensioner, James Mark. He shouts: "Love your neighbour. Make peace, Paisley!" Then he says: "Would you eat your dinner with a Roman Catholic?" "I would," says Dr Paisley, "but not with a Shinner".
A DUP worker tells Mr Mark there are no Catholics in heaven and "you won't be going there either if you keep this up". Mr Mark is unperturbed. "Love your neighbour! Love the Roman Catholics!" he shouts, following the DUP around town.
But the predominant response to Dr Paisley is admiration. He even makes the local traffic warden smile. The Paisleymobile is parked around the corner and the DUP leader wonders if the warden "would ticket the Big Man?". "I would," he says, but it's difficult to believe him, and he promises his vote.
Dr Paisley is delighted with the reception. He scoffs at opponents who write him off. He recalls overturning a huge Official Unionist majority to win his Westminster seat 28 years ago.
"I entered the Guinness Book of Records for that even though I don't touch a drop of the stuff. And I don't intend to stop breaking records."