It can't be two years. Can it? Well they say a week is a long time in politics so let's see how two in NZ stacks up against the same time in politics.
Well it all kicked off with the Scottish Referendum. Whilst the campaigning was well underway before we left, the vote took place just a few short months after we arrived. Some work colleagues were astounded that we weren't able to vote on the future of our country. That's was, at least, until I explained that I wasn't actually from Scotland but England. "But you do sound Scottish," was the reply I often heard. Well I suppose I used to think that Aussies and Kiwis sounded the same so fair dinkum. Anyway, the Scottish voted to stay in the UK and a mightily relieved Prime Minister showed his appreciation by asserting his Englishness, trumpeting "English votes for English people!" or something like that. During all this, the Labour Party in Scotland was fatally wounded, partly because it had sided with a Tory government over the referendum and partly because it was a little bit rubbish. Let that be a lesson. Then again.....
Next came the General Election, the outcome of which appeared to hinge on whether the leader of the opposition could eat a bacon sandwich properly. He couldn't. But then again no one can. In fact I challenge anyone to eat any fried food filled sandwich, knowing that cameras are recording every bite, without getting at least one colour sauce down your shirt. But the die was cast and a Tory government returned to Parliament, helped in no part by the aforementioned Labour collapse in Scotland, the rise of the buoyant SNP, and the purple peril of UKIP enticing would-be Labour and Conservative voters to their cause. Which is to have the UK removed from the EU. But no one is buying that are they?.......
In the aftermath of the General Election, the leader of the Labour Party resigned and the search began for his replacement. There were many candidates in line for the role and, except for gender, all pretty much alike. Except one. Jeremy Corbyn, in a last minute rush, managed to secure enough nominations to get his name on the ballot paper. JC was a bit of an anachronism, a socialist MP in the Labour Party so presumably those who'd given him their nominations did so as a bit of a joke and to get rid of the loony left once and for all? Typically of the left wing, JC spoilt the mood at the party by gathering hundreds of thousands at rallies accross the UK and going on to win the leadership election by a huge margin. The biggest since the war. Although exactly which war was never really defined - it's so hard to tell these days since we go to war an awful lot. Maybe it's to get away from the British weather?
Take Syria for example. Syria was tearing itself apart, the causes of which are far too involved to go into in this simple blog, but something needed to be done. Or needed to be seen to be some perhaps? And what better way is there to bring about stability in a country than to drop bombs on its people. Yes, that'll do the trick. And so, after a televised debate in Parliament, the country voted once again to go to war, Hilary Benn was applauded for making a stirring speech (the main purpose of which appears to have been to remind us that he's nothing like his father and cement his reputation as the next leader in waiting) and everyone patted themselves on the back for a job well done and then sloped off to the subsidised bar for a drink. Allegedly.
Meanwhile, in New Zealand, the Prime Minister John Key decided what everyone wanted was a vote on a new flag. They didn't. But when in politics does what people want actually stop a politician from doing what they wanted to do anyway? And so, at the cost of millions, new designs were drawn up and the electorate were asked to pick one which they did.....they chose the existing one. Hurrah for democracy. Meanwhile families were sleeping in cars because of the lack of affordable housing..... Who in their right mind would hold a referendum that no one was asking for and then be shocked when the vote doesn't go the way they were expecting......
Back in the UK the Tory right were taking note of the threat of UKIP, and longed for the days when England were good at cricket, when you could speak your mind without fear of being challenged for your dated views and for a time when the sun never set on the British Empire. To put this prehistoric rabble to bed, and to help ensure a General Election win, a referendum on the UK and the EU was offered by the prospective Prime Minister. What could possibly go wrong?
After a very bitter campaign, where each side accused the other of lying and questioning their parental heritage, the day came when the UK voted on its future. After months of incrimination and accusation, it boiled down to "should the UK remain as part of the EU or leave?". The result is now well known. But I can't help but wonder if the question should've been "Should the UK wreck its economy, devalue the pound, promote racism, remove health and safety protection from its citizens, threaten peace in Europe, enter a deep recession.... or not?" Maybe the outcome would've been totally different?
Apart from signalling to the rest of the world that the UK was a bunch of racist bigots, the referendum resulted in the resignation of the Prime Minister who, quite sensibly, wanted nothing to do with clearing up the mess he'd created. With the PM gone, the spotlight turned on those who led the campaign to leave, looking for guidance in our hour of need. Embarrassed, they looked at their shoes, fidgeted with their shirt cuffs, mumbled something about it not being their idea, made their excuses and left. With stunning efficiency, a new PM was chosen - a Margaret Thatcher MKII - along with a new right wing cabinet and the country was teleported back to the heady days of 1979.
To reinforce the feeling that we've all been having a bad dream, and the Labour Party never really was in power for over fourteen years under Tony Blair, the Parliamentary Labour Party rejected their leader in a mass resignation. Citing he fact that he unelectable and, perhaps ironically, unable to control his party they demanded he resign. A coup was initiated by Angela Eagle, who was soon joined by a born again socialist Owen 'Who' Smith and the second campaign in twelve months for a Labour Party leader began. The choice, or so we are told, is simple; either keep the current leader, who has the overwhelming support of party members, but will never be elected as PM; or chose another leader who will never be elected a leader but someone who meets the Identikit New Labour Leader specification. To prove his critics right, thousands queued to attend Corbyn's rallies. It would take a huge mis-step on his part to damage the support he has; shouting at a baby on live TV or trying to eat a cooked sandwhich might do it.
Meanwhile, across the pond, things were going swimmingly. Okay, I lied but I was just trying to make you feel better. After months of shouting, telling huge porkies and threatening to build walls, America took another huge step towards giving the keys to the Whitehouse to an megalomaniac with a IQ less then his shoe size. Not to mention the keys to a huge nuclear arsenal. Should people's worse fears come true, at least the last few moments of the earth as we know it will be entertaining.
Speaking of nuclear arsenals, one of the first acts of the new PM was to hold a debate on the future of Trident. It was a bit off holding the debate so soon, especially as the opposition were busy pointing fingers and blaming each other for the dire situation and letting the Tories run amok. Meanwhile the Tories did exactly that; announcing the return of Grammar Schools and trying to start a new Cold War by pissing off the Chinese and halting the construction of a nuclear bomb, sorry reactor, somewhere in Somerset. Then, just as the Chinese officials started to become indignant at the very suggestion that there was anything untoward or shady with the whole deal, a Chinese company who formed one third of the consortium was accused of espionage. I'm not making this up.
And this is all playing out against a backdrop of Europe being torn apart by random, casual terrorism. Except it's not but that's what certain sections of the media would have you believe.
Still at least all was calm in the world of sport. I that was until Leicester City were crowned champions of the Premier League, and as cheers from every neutral football supporter rang out, Manchester United demanded that the season be started arson because they weren't ready and didn't notice it had started.
With all this madness going on, it's no surprise that David Bowie and Prince decide to call it a day.
When we arrived back here after our trip to Europe it was with a certain sigh of relief. Yes, we missed home but being so far from anywhere does has its advantages. Yes, the broadband may be slow, there's little football coverage and you can't get a decent pork pie, but at least we're not worried about a bad tempered idiot having access to nuclear weapons, wondering what public service will get cut next or eyeing up our neighbours with suspicion. And they're Australian!
Yes it's safe to say, a lot has happened whilst we've been down here, and whilst it's not healthy to cut yourself off from the northern hemisphere for too long, sometimes, just sometimes, New Zealand does feel like the safest and most reassuring boring place to be.
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