Tuesday, 9 August 2016

England, My England

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When does one realise one know longer understands the world? The first intimation was the grief for Diana and sense that the monarchy might tumble, but then I went off to Romania. There have been further signs (books in the Bucharest British Council being replaced by DVDs, Donald Trump, transgender lavatories) but coming into Norwich public library where Blue Moon is playing rather loudly settles the matter.


I failed to blog day by day about my recent travels - to Nice to investigate the massacre and to England to find about Brexit. Maybe I shall.


Impressions of England. Many young fat, often very fat, mothers, rather attractive in their way.


Southend my native town yesterday, after twenty years stirred deep emotions. A surprising number of burqa clad and veiled women on the seafront. Tomassi's on the High St still does gingerbocker glories but the places has moved position, the High St is pedestrianised and all the waitresses come from Eastern Europe. My Polish waitress says he prefers Southend to London which has far too many Third World people. I speak Romania to a gypsy selling gold rings in the street but do not buy one.

3 comments:

  1. Could you please share with us what you found out in Nice and how you proceeded with your investigations.

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    Replies
    1. And people's thoughts on Brexit please.

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