I had my suspicions when I arrived literally off a boat, after a tragic Brexit landslide in Gosport along the south coast of England. (I avoided using 'Great Britain' for fear of feeding into the village zeitgeist.)
If you are reading this in the future, Brexit fuelled itself on a fear of foreigners; those in favour, who seemed petrified of immigrants stealing their raison-d'etre, voted that we separate ourselves from the rest of Europe; because, apparently, we were too good for them.)
Gosport was one of the most heavily pro Brexit areas in the country. So much xenophobia in one little town should have struck warning bells. At that point some ill health took all my concentration so I was not taking things in.
There was another bell that clanged even harder. It was a ship's bell.
Gosport was built on the Royal Navy. Roots in navy fleets and defences go back to the sixteen-hundreds. You can feel the swash buckling pirates and smuggler ghosts breathing down your trapped-in-a-peninsular, white-privileged neck, as soon as you alight the ferry.
And herein lie more clues. A military history is bound to be linked with right wing mentalities and the fact that there is only one road out of here, plus that small bobbing boat, has led to a level of intellectual inter breading only seen previously in the deep south of America.
I am a serviceman's daughter. I grew up here. I know this place well.
to be continued
© 2019 Pasha de la Mare