Heron Island, Great Barrier Reef, Australia

Friday 31 January 2020

One chipped and battered mug, somewhat over-scoured inside, and ready for recycling. I bought it on my first trip abroad after my father died, to Brussels, on the then newly-opened Eurostar train service, so the mug's been with me 25 years.

It came with the EU flag on it, from the EU souvenir shop, but the flag wore off in the dishwasher some years ago.

Some sort of a metaphor there, as the clock ticks down to our formal exit tonight (not that we shall awake to any immediate difference, let alone to an end to the conundrums of trying to have cake and eat it).


  1. Maybe they should issue special cake plates for the arrival of Brexit?

    1. Ha! They'll need a plate for humble pie soon enough

  2. The mug is a great metaphor!
    Chipped and over scrubbed and useless now, ready for the scrapheap.
    I spent the evening at a wake, turned into quite a party, with lots of raving and ranting, eating and drinking, ending in a few heavy sighs at 11, before resuming the party spirit. For once we were not careful to be quiet when we all went home after 1 in the morning. There are otherwise mainly leavers living in the close.