Easter holidays and thoughts turn to Good Friday and chocolate eggs.

Easter holidays and thoughts turn to Good Friday.

Oh well. The Bank Holiday period is literally hours away now and it's time to think of those adorably cute bunny rabbits hopping merrily through the green undergrowth, chocolate Easter eggs that are so teasingly tempting and Easter Parade on the TV for what seems like the millionth time. Yes Easter Parade starring Judy Garland who, when she wasn't following the yellow brick road in the Wizard of Oz, also made a sterling contribution to one of the most religiously appropriate films of all time.

Today is  Maundy Thursday where all manner of sacred gifts are handed out in churches across the world and of course Good Friday, perhaps one of the most presumptuously named of all English holidays follows hot on its heels. Besides why is it called Good Friday? What's so pure or virtuous about Good Friday? How did they come to the conclusion that Good Friday was good when quite clearly this is open to debate and interpretation? For all we know it may well have been just average or mediocre, or just moderate or modest, perhaps just acceptable, passable or tolerable Friday. This is a wild supposition with nothing to substantiate the accuracy of the statement.

Perhaps Good Friday is good but not outstanding, more respectable and adequate Friday. There is no historical or scientific evidence to prove conclusively that Friday was good. I'm inclined to think that Good Friday was once considered as below par and then charmed its way into the good books of Britain by carrying out some charitable deed. But there you have it. Good Friday will come winging its way into our life tomorrow full of good, honourable intentions and kind hearted benevolence.

I'm inclined to think that Good Friday will be speaking from the moral high ground because we're all good citizens who conduct ourselves perfectly and civilly in our day to day dealings with each other and life. And so tomorrow we'll all take the weekend off, mowing the grass in our gardens, pottering around our shed. fixing a couple of living room shelves, strolling down country lanes, sauntering around the many acres of garden centres or just looking for that elusive tin of paint in magnolia. It could only be Easter and it  undoubtedly is Easter so let's join Judy Garland on her Easter Parade and her fetching Easter bonnet.

Here in Manor House, the whole of Finsbury Park is gearing itself up for the great Easter fairground, a huge, sprawling funfair that flashes, winks, spins, swirls, screams, yells and just gets very animated. The lights of the Finsbury Park fairground will entrance the whole teenage and, quite possibly, adult population of Hackney and Harringay for just a couple of weeks because that's the way it's always been when the fair comes to town. Once again inevitability and continuity has come around again and the kids love it - and maybe the adults too.

So what are we to make of Good Friday? The great and good of the religious community would quite definitely give me a very logical explanation and I'd have no reason to question them. But Good Friday just sounds like a sweeping generalisation because nobody has actually convinced me that Friday was good although most of us would just assume that it is. The truth is that Good Friday has yet to do anything unspeakably bad or wicked nor has it committed any crimes or misdemeanours. It always does its homework and behaves with the most exemplary good manners.

For instance roughly 20 years ago the Good Friday agreement was thrashed out by the good people of Northern Ireland. It seems like a lifetime ago now but when Tony Blair got together with the admirable Mo Mowlam everybody agreed that permanent peace in Northern Ireland seemed the best of all solutions.

For years Northern Ireland had been at almost constant war with itself, where the fiercely fractured Protestant and Catholic communities  just seemed hell bent on wholesale death. It was the bloodiest and most horrific conflict of all time. Since 1969 whole families could barely live in the same street or road with each other without somebody blowing up a house, factory or shop. It was anguished antagonism of the worst kind, hatred at its most bitter and then there were floods of tears. But Good Friday was the day that Northern Ireland settled down, rationalised with its irrationalities and just shook each other by the hand. War was not the answer and commonsense prevailed with an invigorating spring in its step.

It was the Good Friday we'll never forget when my wife and I met up with Mo Mowlam on that most wonderful of all days in a Stoke Newington supermarket. You could almost hear a collective sigh because finally humanity had found a way of sorting out its complex problems. It could be rightly said that Good Friday had indeed lived up to its name and reputation. Ms Mowlam smiled warmly at my wife and I and there was a brief and private recognition that the whole of the human race was not only good but was almost saintly and angelic.

And so we sing the praises of Good Friday and the whole of Christendom will descend on Jerusalem over Easter on that yearly pilgrimage. Good Friday is unquestionably good, just brilliant, jumping for joy and just beside itself with uncontrollable elation. Oh Easter in all her splendour and glory!  How the nation's children just long for those buttery filled Hot Cross Buns, neatly packaged Easter eggs and a trip down to the coast for that customary ride on the fairground carousel.

There you have it folks. Good Friday does have a lot to commend itself because it's thoroughly trustworthy, never speaks out of turn and always knows when to do things in moderation. I think it's time to   give Good Friday its due because somebody has got to give it credit where it's due. It doesn't stay out late at night, is incredibly polite in company and never leaves the dinner table without asking or maybe I'm expecting a bit too much of Good Friday. Good Friday has nothing to reproach itself for and I'm a fervent fan of that day.  Let's hear it for Good Friday as opposed to detestable, revolting Friday. You'll leap out of bed and quote that famous 1960s mantra. Oh we're just glad all over. Amazing day.

Today I once again passed by the hallowed doors of Sainsbury's in Stamford Hill and marvelled at the sheer multi- culturalism and diversity of North London and for that matter, the whole of the world.  There they were the Jewish matzas in perfect juxtaposition with Easter eggs, a religious force for good. It will be Good Friday after all.  The whole of the world is about to embrace Easter like an old friend who just keeps coming back every year. Easter means eggs, buns, matzas, good vibes, fairground rides, a break from the daily toil and drudgery, a time, above all, to be good, very good and better than ever before. Bring on the chocolate.