So, a Scottish prime minister wants the nation’s pupils (Great Britain’s, that is), to swear an oath of allegiance to Ellie, their rather lovely Queen. This is completely and utterly contra-productive. Britain has been thriving over the centuries (and especially the last decades) by being able to assimilate different ethnicities through a non-confrontational attitude: people would move to Britain, work, and their children would learn the lingo, go to university and – hey presto – be a member of the house of lords. With a funny name.

Swearing allegiance to Ellie or Charlie won’t change a thing. Integration into a society is a multi-generational chore. You can’t make somebody English (and that’s really what it’s about, as the other homenations won’t have anything to do with the plan)by standing up and saying a silly oath. You learn the langage, meet the neighbours, invite them for dinner and get to know and admire their culture.

Coercion is contraproductive.

For almost forty years ‘Just a Minute‘ (JaM) has been a regular staple of the more sophisticated side of British humour. The current series on Radio4, featuring the usual octogenarian team of Nicholas Parsons and Clement Freud and regulars Paul Merton, Lisa Tarbuck et al is particular delightful. Nicholas Parsons in age-defying mood.

I don’t know whether somebody has been mixing Donezepil into Freud’s and Parsons’ coffee, but these old codgers are currently flying. Supported by their younger team mates, they certainly showcase how witty you can be in your eighties. On top of that, Clement Freud seems to have taken his inhalers regularly, as he doesn’t have to pause every two seconds between sentences to catch his breath. Janet Street Porters accusations of Radio 4 being utterly middleclass are of course utter hyperbole (The middle class’s radio tuning dial is firmly welded to Radio2). I would call Radio 4 and it’s brillant comedy output rather the station for the thinking class. And thinkers are classless.

Today I was told by one of the gorgeous spies that still supply me with regular info from North Otago that my favourite bar in Oamaru, the amazing H2O has finally closed its doors. While controversial for its location and architecture (it made the Victorians itchy to get out their pitchforks) it was nevertheless a well designed modernist building with a hint of Mies van der Rohe at the most amazing spot overlooking Friendly Bay. First managed by the lovely Diane and that Genius in the kitchen, David Taylor, this was the perfect combination between gorgeous bar with amazing views and superb cuisine. After Diane and David’s departure their ‘front of house’ maitre Jessica continued to make you as comfortable as possible, while the food continued to be inspired by David’s ideas. This was always the perfect place for an after work beer (featuring Emerson’s and Three Boys) , have civilised glass of wine or a glorious meal.

And now it’s closed and will re-open as a ‘pub’.

Bummer.

So, let’s see: You pay your 700 pounds or 1000 Euros and take the 22 hour flight to New Zealand. On the way you stop in Asian megacities (KL, Bombay, Hongkong, Seoul), hell (Los Angeles International Airport and its crimeinfested surroundings. If Homeland Security lets you out) and probably think that this is just a small price to pay before you arrive in peaceful Kiwiana. Or, if you’re lucky, you were clever enough to fly via Singapore and have a proper break in a city that, while autocratically ruled, is pretty safe and peaceful. Nevertheless, statistically you’re most likely to land in Auckland, and that’s where the trouble begins, as your choices are all equally shite:

• a) you’re doing the classic middle-class thing and rent a white, diesel-guzzling campervan for 100 euros a day ‘because you want to be free’ , drive down Highway 1 from one tourist trap to the other while leaving the rest of New Zealand to the 96% of the natives who live as far away from State Highway 1 as possible to avoid the tourists, share communal showers with the other 500 people travelling in those big white vans on campsites and enjoy the thought that you’re going to meet them all again tomorrow night on the next campsite. Most of them are probably from your home town.
• b) you hire a rental car and drive down aforementioned State Highway 1 just to stand in one traffic jam after the other behind large white campervans, driven by Europeans who think they still are behind the wheel of their Seat and stay in Motels with varying comfort levels.
• c) you decide to hitch-hike and fear for your safety.
• d) you try to do the honorable thing and take public transport, just to find out there is none, just a dozen of 20 year old black smoke spewing diesel buses.
• e) you end up in a hostel in Manukau and get robbed of all your traveller checks by the first bunch of gang-colour toting thirteen year olds you meet.
• …and finally: if you’re a German, you obviously brought your bike and cycle from Auckland to Invercargill, just to get laughed at by the other road users.

On the way you will be passing one paddock full of cows after the other, plenty of irrigation infrastructure and will never meet anybody else than waiters from Europe, jobbing in one bistro after the other, boutique owners from Auckland and the German campervan drivers who arrived with you on the same flight and will do exactly the same route that you planned.

Happy Holidays!

Today it was reported by the “News and Star” that Christopher Harvey, MSP for the Scottish National Party, described the Scottish youth as wearing ‘the ugliest clothes worn by anyone on the entire continent’. While he is certainly right, he should also note that the Scottish youth are some of the most socially deprived in the OECD, and that in deprived areas the money is probably more likely to be spend on a six-pack of lager and a new knife than a suit.

The Scotland of today is not the fairy tale Europeans want to see. This is a significantly torn nation struggling to come to grips with generations of underprivileged beneficiaries.

Their dress-sense reflects this.