Even by the Taoiseach’s high standard, it was a wonderfully cringetastic start to the new political season.

With some carefully chosen throwaway remarks, Enda Kenny casually cemented his unrivalled reputation as Irish politics’ King of Cheese.

“I’ve got my mojo back,” he breezily informed Pat Kenny.

Throughout the land, listeners recoiled from their radios, spluttering morning coffee, aghast. Yeah baby!

Groovemeister Enda (65), now driving a racy MG (minority government), has rediscovered his mojo. A nation rejoiced. He elaborated on this alarming statement – once heard, never to be unheard – later on at Fine Gael’s pre-Dáil away day in Newbridge.

“It’s my zeal for life and politics,” he quivered, sounding like one of those euphemistic advertisements for the older man trying to reignite his “lust for life” and prepared to go down the pharmaceutical route. We overheard a backbencher’s bashful whisper to a colleague: “What’s a mojo?”

Hearts sank

Meanwhile, fears the Taoiseach might turn up in a crushed velvet suit and frilly shirt proved unfounded, but hearts sank when he tripped from his car and dreamily purred: “Has anyone seen any mojo around here?” God help us.

This year’s two-day think-in is a far cry from the party’s pre-election outing to Limerick, when tails were up, Fine Gael was holding steady in the polls and “securing the recovery” seemed to be the message to take them through to a comfortable second term.

Monday’s affair laboured under the snappy slogan: “Using economic progress to improve people’s lives.” Which makes you wonder what they were trying to do with the progress before that.

Only two protesters thought it worth their while to come along. One of them stood all afternoon in the drizzle on the footpath opposite the hotel holding up a Sinn Féin flag – “Stand Up, Fight Back”, while his companion sat on the wall behind him under the dark canopy of a weeping willow.

They refused to give their names, pointing to a garda standing beside. “If I give you me name, he’ll know it,” explained the man with the flag. The garda rolled his eyes. “Jack Russell, he tells me.”

Bursting with begonias

Back at the hotel, the politicians were beginning to arrive. There were flowers everywhere – the way to the front door was bursting with crimson begonias, hydrangeas and petunias bloomed in the garden beyond and there were floral arrangements in all the public rooms. There was a lot of chiffon about, and lipstick- pink swags and lavenders and creams and loveseats and gazebos. This was prime wedding territory.

The parliamentary party and their advisers met in “The Ballroom Room” under a draped ceiling centrepiece underpinned with what looked like flowery disco balls. There was a seating plan outside, stuck to a gilt-framed mirror on an easel. One Minister to each table, hosting a selection of TDs and senators. Enda, cock-a-hoop to have his mojo back, sat at the top table with his Tánaiste Frances Fitzgerald. There would be speeches.

It was like a particularly dull wedding. The media was let in to gawk at the guests before they got down to business. They had paper and pens, folders and Glacier Mints, although the Ballroom Room was a bit big for them.

“Will you use your mojo to fire John Halligan if he continues to behave the way he is?” asked TV3’s Ursula Halligan (no relation), who rushed away from the press conference upon being told the bomb squad was searching her overnight bag in the lobby.

Enda was clearly delighted to hear her say the “M” word, which, these days, appears to mean sex appeal and animal magnetism. Or drugs.

Muddy Waters is an authority on the subject – it’s one thing to have your mojo, but you got to get it working. The Taoiseach, anyway, is happy to talk about his. It certainly deflected from talk of when he’s going to resign the leadership and make way for new blood. And just to muddy the waters a little bit more, he mentioned he “will consider the performance” of all his Ministers and Ministers of State next year.

That’ll soften their coughs for another while at least, because he hasn’t any intention of bowing out in the near future.

A la Tammy Wynette, Enda was singing all day that he will “stand by” his mandate (which has been agreed for three years with Fianna Fáil) until the bitter end.

Martin Heydon, the local TD hosting the meeting, explained there would be “full and frank discussions”, “key interactions” and “breakout sessions”. With roast beef and seabass on the menu for later.

The Tánaiste was asked her opinion on the Taoiseach’s revelation that he has his mojo back.

“Well, we have a job off work to do . . .” she began, sensibly ignoring the question.

Finally, the boss rocked up, mad to talk about his You Know What. It was the first thing he mentioned.

Meet the troops

Then he went inside to meet the troops. He fell upon deputy leader, James Reilly.

“Howya James,” he cried, grabbing his former minister for health. “I got my mojo back! I found it the other day!”

Reilly is a doctor. He shot a strange look at Enda, who was already moving back into the crowded corridor, delighted with himself. He briefly cornered The Irish Times.

“My mojo” he croaked. “I found it this morning!”

Then he went into the Garden Room to tell the media that he “has a huge agenda” in front of him. “I intend to go flat out.”

The women of Fine Gael will have to start travelling in pairs.

“The mandate I have is one I intend to fulfil and work exceptionally hard in the extensive and challenging series of agendas that we have up front,” he added to general bafflement.

The afternoon’s session centred on two reports into the party’s poor election performance.

Enda said one was drawn up by “practising politicians” and the other, “The Coy Report”, was a “more academic study”. They aren’t being released yet, but the abridged contents of both, as outlined behind closed doors to the politicians, were immediately leaked.

The Minister for Finance sneaked out with Paschal Donohoe and junior minister Eoghan Murphy to brief on budget-related matters. It wasn’t long before the mojo thing was broached.

“I think it comes from the soccer tradition,” grinned Michael Noonan. “I’d be more of a hurling man.”