It was a warm night for December. Stormont has been described as "a cross between the Parthenon and Mansfield Park", but none can dispute the fine view of Belfast from the entrance to Parliament Buildings. The Athens of the North was asleep as we emerged after 4 a.m., and a colleague mused: "These people don't know what we know."
Despite the lateness of the hour, the First Minister was in high good humour. Not quite as euphoric as when he received the Nobel Prize, but certainly remarkably cheerful considering the marathon he had just completed.
David Trimble's jokes split the country into two camps, but he made rather a good one when asked if he was looking forward to coalition with the SDLP. "We are fast becoming inseparable," he quipped. "Look at the hours we're keeping."
The day began for reporters with a tip-off that a joint statement by Mr Trimble and the Deputy First Minister, Mr Seamus Mallon, was to be made about 2.30 p.m. Journalists headed for Stormont. Cameras were primed and the hacks hovered with their notebooks and tape-recorders in the Central Hall, under a spectacular chandelier said to have originally belonged to the Kaiser.
Far from a joint announcement, the startling news emerged that Mr Mallon had left the building by a side door. He was heading home to Markethill, Co Armagh, to fast in preparation for a gallstones operation the following morning. There were also reports of sharp exchanges over a crossBorder body on tourism.
The pattern of negotiations, as far as it can be pieced together at this stage, was that the Ulster Unionists had conceded there would be 10 ministries in place of the existing six but were adamant there would be no more than six cross-Border implementation bodies, i.e. with the power to implement policy.
The UUP had suggested three, aquaculture and marine matters, inland waterways and food safety. The SDLP's list was headed by trade and business development, special European Union programmes and strategic transport planning.
Dublin, however, took the view that Sinn Fein had to get something uniquely its own from all this, and the Taoiseach argued strongly for an implementation body on the Irish language, with Ulster Scots added as a gesture to unionists. The SDLP preferred to go for a body in the economic/industrial/commercial sphere, hence its choice of transport. Mr Ahern, conscious of the need to avoid undermining the Sinn Fein leadership, pressed his case for a languages body, and succeeded.
Mr Mallon and his party colleagues made a strong bid for a seventh implementation body in the area of tourism. This had led to exchanges with the unionists, Mr Mallon took a robust line and then it was time for him to leave, although he kept in touch by phone and fax from his home.
The old familiar gloom and despair which cloud the penultimate stage of a successful peace process negotiation took over. The SDLP was saying relatively little, but Sinn Fein launched a major media onslaught, claiming the unionists were once again playing their old game of passive resistance to a deal.
Mr Martin McGuinness, angrier than many had seen him before, termed the UUP's conduct "absolutely disgraceful". Later, as prospects for a deal grew brighter, Sinn Fein claimed it had played a crucial role in putting pressure on the UUP.
UUP spokesmen maintained an upbeat note for much of the day, insisting as they had done for some days previously that a deal was "tantalisingly close". This provoked the memorable question from a BBC journalist: "How long can you be tantalisingly close?"
There was bitter resentment in the unionist camp at any suggestion they were acting in bad faith, and when this was echoed in the media, it led to sharp exchanges.
Just before 7 p.m. the situation took a turn for the better. The positive tone coming from the UUP began to be echoed by key figures in the main nationalist party. A compromise had been reached on tourism. Instead of a state administrative structure spanning both parts of the island, there would be a private company charged with marketing Northern Ireland and the Republic internationally.
A meeting of the all-important UUP Assembly team shortly after 7 p.m. went well for the party leadership. There was talk of a joint statement by the two parties at 9.15 p.m., but there's many a slip in the peace process.
A mild panic broke out when the UUP was given to understand the other side was briefing the media to the effect that the tourism company would be a seventh cross-Border body in all but name.
This was certainly the Sinn Fein position, but it was not the message coming from SDLP sources, at least to this reporter.
Tourism was back centre-stage and dominated negotiations for the rest of the night. There was a tug-of-war between the two main parties as to which government department would have authority over tourism. The unionists wan ted it to remain with the Department of Economic Development, now about to be renamed Enterprise, Trade and Investment.
Nationalists said it should be under the new Department of Culture, Arts and Leisure.
Mr John Taylor of the UUP said at one stage a deal was almost agreed with only "2 1/2 per cent" of the package outstanding. About 2 a.m. he appeared in the Central Hall. Was everything all right? "No, it's not," he replied. "The 2 1/2per cent proved impossible."
The politics of the dispute was that a unionist would probably get the Enterprise portfolio and use the position to prevent tourism from developing into a full-blooded cross-Border body. That's why nationalists wanted tourism to go under Culture, Arts and Leisure, one of the ministries likely to go the SDLP or Sinn Fein.
At one stage, Mr Trimble came to the SDLP war-room and in deadly serious tones ("He eyeballed us," said a party source), announced that his party could not live with tourism moving to the Department of Culture.
The SDLP gave way, although it claims to have extracted concessions in other respects. Sinn Fein was extremely angry and accused its fellow-nationalists of letting the side down, but it was 4 a.m. and no one wanted to drag out the proceedings any longer.
As a journalist in Dublin used to ask after every election: "Did the country win?" The answer is, probably, in the sense that there was give and take between the two sides.
The gloomy demeanour of Sinn Fein at the end of the night struck an ominous note, but everyone would have time to reflect on the deal and tease out its implications before the Assembly debate on January 18th.
Outside, Belfast was still asleep, lovers wended their way home through the city streets, the LVF was getting ready to decommission and, on the news, there was no report of anyone being killed.