I haven’t written anything about politics generally or Brexit in particular for a long time now, but I’m sharing this from one of my favourite fellow bloggers. His concerns, by his own admission, aren’t as pressing as those of a someone younger who may be losing the right to live and work elsewhere in the EU, but his sense of despair at the folly of it all is palpable. What are we doing?
I am becoming more and more despondent as the days tick by to 29 March 2018…
It was during a conversation with a Luxemburger whose studio I’d rented for my last walking holiday, that I realised I’d spent my entire adult life as a citizen of, first the European Economic Community, then the European Community and finally the European Union: I was 18 when we joined back in 1973. Although I felt happy then joining all our neighbours in the twelve (as it was then), two years later, in my serious but short-lived very left-wing phase, I voted for us to leave, in the first-ever referendum. We didn’t, I got over it pretty quickly and over the years came to enjoy the – mostly unseen – advantages that being part of the union gave us. Travel gradually became so much easier as borders, though still visible, disappeared in…
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