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.

Lady Lydia the Boob, returns to the Mother Land



3 thoughts on “The Mother Ship

      1. Well, it is difficult for those in the rat race to understand the values and mindset of those like us. We can be grateful they ‘keep the lights on’ so we have some comforts when ‘coming to town. 🙂 SOMEone has to be enslaved for us to enjoy our liberties!


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