Brexit
is a nightmare from which we are trying to awake. What a weird week
this has been. On trips to the Netherlands and Portugal, where I am now,
continental friends hug me as if there has been a tragic death in the
family. A longtime Serbian friend says, “Now you know what it felt like
to be us, explaining that not all Serbs think that way … ”
Nothing has changed and everything has changed. I still go through the
EU passport-holders’ queue. But when I stand next to a Scottish family
in the airport bus, I find myself thinking: some day soon they might be
foreigners, citizens of a small independent country inside the European Union, like Slovakia or Slovenia. But England, my England, where will you be?
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