At three minutes to 11, the faint sound of a drum beat tells residents gathered near the top of Garvaghy Road that the Orange parade is approaching. Outside St John the Baptist Church, some of the congregation stay around after 10 o'clock Mass to view the march through a barbed and razor wire fence. Others are there specially. The church is on the parade route and is an ideal location for nationalists who feel so inclined to air their views about parades.
The wire fence is supplemented by a 12ft steel barrier directly in front of the church and a heavy presence of police and soldiers. Opposite are a few dozen Orange Order supporters.
For several minutes the only sound is of the bands and applause as each passes. Then someone on the nationalist side recognises a marcher: "Go on Jimmy!", he shouts. Jimmy, unsure how to respond, offers a feeble wave, which is greeted with: "And you're living in (nationalist) Ballyoran, ya c*** ya."
"You're intimidating the people," shouts a woman from across the road.
"Stay for the year," another man outside the church calls out to the marchers, "or for the night even." Doubting their commitment to do so, he adds: "Yez couldn't spell `protest'."
Another man recognises a marcher. He calls her name in a high-pitched, disguised voice, but she spots him. "See ya in work tomorrow!" she shouts. Cue an explosion of laughter among the man and his friends.
Then the man who questioned the Orangemen's spelling ability makes eye contact with a marcher. "How long are you staying?" he asks. "Forever!" replies the Orangeman. "By yourself?" Further laughter.
When a woman in the parade tells the nationalists "we are never going away" and "we will walk the Garvaghy Road", she is greeted with shouts of "You're going the wrong way!" and "Four-nil".
Cristina Barroso, a 23-yearold Spanish student living in Dublin, has come up to witness the occasion. She admires the Garvaghy Road residents for standing up for themselves.
On Drumcree Road, which is also blocked to the marchers, the owner of a house with a "For Sale" sign says the annual tension is one of the reasons he wants to get out. "This is no place to bring up your children." The house has been on the market nine months.
A girl of 15 would like to live in the Republic. "You can't do anything or go anywhere. Around this time of the year you have to stay in the area." Does she never visit the town centre? "Oh no, you wouldn't even think about doing that. It wouldn't be an option."