The Mother Ship

So, I’m in England for the winter. I came to pay over 200 years of back taxes to the Queen…just kidding…I’m visiting my boyfriend who is British South African, a Saffa. It’s a term the English give to South African immigrants who take over London.

Having a British passport gives him more opportunity to travel the world. With a South African passport it’s not as easy, since it’s a third world country. My entry into the U.K. was easy, although the immigration officer raised an eyebrow when I told her I was a transient and that I met my English boyfriend while hiking in New Mexico. “What are you going to do when you go back to the States?” she asked. “Go for a hike in the Southwest.”

It is cold and gray here like they say and I have been under a blanket since I arrived. But it makes a great backdrop for 17th century (and older) churches, gravestones, and pubs that smell sour from hundreds of years of party fouls. I have left a few brain cells in those pubs.