Now I'm certain; no doubts, no hesitation. I know exactly what I'll buy when I make my millions. Not a big house, not a luxury yacht, not an Olympic swimming pool, no, no, no. I'm going to spend my yet to be made fortune on the ultimate in transportation - the divine afflatus of helicopter flight has me hooked, line and sinker. I remember that Scott Fitzgerald once remarked that 'it isn't necessary to own a swimming pool - it's necessary to have friends who do.' You could apply that reasoning with equal aptness to helicopters, and as luck would have it, I can.

A casual phone conversation with Chris-the-bother-in-law elicited the oddly Malthusian coincidence that we were both planning a trip to Wexford on the same day. 'A thought,' said Chris, 'why don't we go together?' I know that when Chris visits his mother, it's more often than not by helicopter and this time the preferred mode of transport was just that. I jumped at the chance; to see the rolling hills of Wicklow and Wexford from 1500 feet on a clear, sunny day is an exhilarating experience. But it's not just the beauty of the Irish countryside that thrills, it's the speed at which you get to your chosen destination. Thirty minutes after leaving Enniskerry we had landed in Wexford's south-eastern tip, in a field next to Mrs. Davison's herd of Charolais bullocks and her flock of one sheep - Molly. I found a sheltered spot in the sunshine to do the crossword, while the more energetic group of Chris, Diane, the artist Susan Morley and Mrs. Davison went off for a pre-prandial stiff walk, the better to boost the appetite.

With lunch booked at one o'clock in Rosslare, we had to leave at five to one, which meant we were landing alongside Kelly's Hotel at one on the dot. You can't help but love this kind of transport. The hotel is right on the seafront and has all the amenities you'd expect from a resort, like a swimming pool, tennis courts and a health club. However our purpose was to eat, not exercise, and we took our table in the restaurant, appositely called 'La Marine'. It's very modern in style and full of light, it's main feature being a large glass dome centred over the curved end of the dining room, which shelters the tallest Yucca plant I've ever seen. Comfortable chairs and good-sized tables that are well-spaced, make it a pleasing room.

La Marine is no stranger to Chris and his mother, they've been a few times. 'I'll tell you something,' said Chris, 'the Mr. Kelly who owns this place is married to a French lady, whose father, Paul Avril, is a wine-maker in the Rhone valley, specifically Chateau Neuf du Pape. There's a few of his wines on the wine list - a red and a white Chateau Neuf, called Clos des Papes, as well the Petit Vin d'Avril also in red and white. We went down the list and found a reasonably priced selection, not overly long, but there's another list of special wines that you can ask for which caters for the more serious oenologist. We chose the house rose at €18 as a starter, and followed it with the M. Avril's red 1999 Chateau Neuf, which was priced at €37.

The lunch menu isn't long, but there are some interesting dishes on it, 'the French influence', thought Chris. We were joined by Pilot Andy, so between the six of us we were able to cover much of the menu, although Mrs. D. would have no starter. A chicken bruschetta for Andy, which came with a good basil pesto accompaniment, mussels for me, which came in a specially designed dish for holding a dozen mussels, and three spinach and sun-dried tomato salads, which came with bite-sized pieces of deep-fried Parmesan. We swapped and chatted, and I discovered to my surprise that I'm not the only person who knows what the 'T' in Captain James T. Kirk stands for. Seems that pilot Andy is a big as trekkie as I am.

I couldn't help noticing that when the starter plates were cleared away they looked as though they'd been licked clean. Good sign, I suppose. The main courses we'd chosen were three confit of duck served with potato wedges, two linguini with tiger prawns and scallops, and a rib-eye steak for me. The duck was perfectly crispy and enjoyed by all who had it and my steak was just right. If I had a quibble it was this; if you could have given an Italian cook those wonderful prawns and scallops, he'd have combined them with the linguini and created a dish for a king. Here it was a dish for an earl.

And then we came to the other joy of travelling like this. With Pilot Andy drinking only water, and we being only passengers, we could drink more wine. A half-bottle of a good Beaumes de Venise, Domaine de Durban, at €16 went a treat with the desserts, one chocolate crepe and three toffee ice-creams. Actually it went very well without dessert as well, as I discovered to my pleasure. What I did have, and no one else did, was a really good espresso, expertly made, which finished my lunch very nicely. Truth to tell, it was so good I ordered a second. The bill for the six of us came to €196.20, of which €71 was wine.

Before we left we had time to take in the rather fine collection of modern Irish art, with which many of the public rooms are hung. Three William Russell Flint works caught my eye, as did a triptych of three female nudes. Oh yes, before I forget, if you're interested, the aforementioned 'T' stands for Theophilus.