(If you’re new to the blog: I’m walking to John O’Groats to raise money to help street children through Romilly’s charity. The story starts at the post on the right: ‘Where shall we park the car?’)
Have you heard the one about the Englishman, The Scotsman and the Australian?
It was a bit like that the next day at breakfast in the B and B, except it was three Scotsmen, an Australian and his wife, our hosts who were from Lancashire…and me. We were all eating at the same table which made for lively conversation. One of the Scotsmen and the Australian were talking about the price of airline tickets to Australia. Our host didn’t think much of it, and standing behind his chair, he was a big man, turned to me,
‘You said how you’d liked the people in the North on your walk. Well let me tell you, a lot of us would go with the Scots when it comes to the referendum.’ The three Scotsmen, sitting opposite me and were looking at me hard. I quickly disassociated myself from the Conservatives, whose ineptitude have much so much to make the mess in which we find ourselves.
‘I’m a paid up member of the Green Party’.
‘That did it for me, that remark by your P.M.’, said the youngest of the three Scots.
‘What did he say?’
‘About Scotland becoming a third world country…What’s he called that clown?’
‘Well let me tell you, he’s lost the Labour vote in Scotland’
Someone said something about immigration.
‘Well, if you want to stop that, vote Ukip’, I said. ‘That’s a great way to stick it to the Tories’, I said.
‘We’re with you there’ said the older Scotsman.
‘ Yup,’ said our host, ‘They’re voting Ukip’.
Someone said, ‘What’s this about us not having the pound?’
‘Well there’s no way Scotland will have the pound if they vote for independence’.
It sounds so mean doesn’t it. A bit like an a child saying, ‘You can’t play with my toys’. I could see this wasn’t going down well, and wished I’d been able to explain why it was contradictory to wish to leave Britain but keep the British pound; and how divorced couples don’t share bank accounts for good reason; and how the Euro area had shown what happened when you had currency union without political union, but breakfast was breaking up and there wasn’t time. We said good bye amicably but I had a feeling that I turned three ‘may be’s’ into three definite, ‘Yes’s
But how is it that at the island’s biggest constitutional crossroads since 1707, the decision of a day to keep or break the union, which took 200 years to make, and which served both countries well for 300 years, bringing peace where there had been centuries of border conflict and bloody war; how was it that the people making that decision still did not know or understand what the forseeable consequences of that decision will be?
How is it that our politicians have allowed this problem to fester for so long? Does the party of the Union, which has so spectacularly failed to protect it, imagine that if the Union breaks up they are going to be allowed 1000 years of Tory misrule?
The three Scotsmen, all nice, polite friendly men worked nights, changing signs for Tesco stores. I wondered how they would feel if the Union breaks up and they had to produce passports every time they came down to do a job for Tesco’s. Imagine the tail backs; but border controls there will be.
The Australians’ had said good bye. I finished my breakfast with the B and B owners.
‘My wife’s going blind. We’ll have to sell the business’, said the man.
‘We’ve lost our culture,’ she said, ‘Now sometimes I’m afraid to say I’m English’
‘Yet, they all want to come here’, said her husband,’That’s how bad we are.’
‘What’s everybody’s is nobody’s’ she said, ‘and in the end nobody cares for it’.
I went back to the Canal and headed north. It was a lovely day.
I’m walking a long way to help raise money so that Romilly can give street children a chance. If you would like to help, please donate at