Rory Fitzgerald
One of the things I like about England is the 50p pieces. There is a pleasant continuity to using coins with shapes and sizes similar to those in circulation when I was a boy growing up in Cork. There is something reassuring about such small things in life remaining constant, and in seeing my kids stash away 50p pieces in their money boxes, just as I once did.
Another pleasure on moving over was switching the car’s speedometer back from kilometres to miles. In England, you may still assuredly walk a mile down the road to spend a few pounds on a pint. Even ardent fans of the metric system must admit that these old units of measurement and currency have a cultural resonance not yet available to those walking a couple of kilometres to spend a few euros on a 500ml glass of beer.
The metric system is brilliant, but it is nice to have, in tandem to it, the old units in daily use. Of course, much of the pressure to go metric came from the standardising impetus of the EU. Tellingly, most cars in the UK don’t sport standard EU number plates, with the blue EU flag. In the UK, drivers have the choice to use the EU number plate or not. Soon, all the British, Irish and Commonwealth citizens resident in the UK will face an even bigger choice: whether or not the UK should remain in the EU at all.
Within months, I along with the 100,000 or so Irish citizens who arrived here since the 2008 financial crisis, and those longer established, may play an important role in what is expected to be a tight and historic vote.
Since having kids, the way I think about voting has changed, especially when it comes to matters such as referenda, the consequences of which tend to endure far longer than governments. I no longer think of just my own interests, or abstract ideas.
The first consideration is how my vote will affect my kids in decades to come, when they are adults, or even when they have children of their own.
Our kids have Irish, Scottish, English and Italian roots and three European citizenships. We have family and friends in all corners of the continent. The peaceful coming together of a prosperous and open Europe, east and west, has been one of the most positive events of the past half century.
Yet working in Brussels a decade ago, I saw a dark side to the EU too, which many others have since seen come to light: unelected elitist functionaries with a remarkable contempt for democracies and the will of small nations and ordinary people.
I am happy to see our children grow up familiar with many corners of these prosperous and peaceful islands, and the continent of Europe. Yet, at times, I am glad that we indeed do live on islands.
Yet I am warmed by the thought that the coast of France is just 60 miles from where I write on the Isle of Wight. From this village, fishermen would row to Cherbourg in a night, to smuggle back barrels of brandy and wine.
Thankfully, France will not move whatever way the vote goes. Nor will the strands of family or friendship that link us to so many parts of Europe be weakened. And if the EU and the free movement of goods all goes wallop someday soon, I am well placed to row to France by moonlight and smuggle back barrels of brandy and wine.
