Recently it appears that there has been some confusion between Brexit and breakfast. At the Conservative Party conference in Birmingham, the leader of the Welsh Conservative party made the following statement:
“And conference, mark my words: we will make breakfast… brexit a success!”
More recently still, the BBC released a video compiling the many times one of its presenters had tried and failed to say Brexit.
The Brexit breakfast
On one occasion though, Brexit really did mean breakfast…
Some months before June 23, I made a bet with a friend on what the referendum result would be. My friend bet that Britain would vote to remain in the EU as the public gave in to Project Fear. I bet that Britain would vote to leave the EU.
What made me agree to that bet? Was it a gut feeling? Was it a reasonable guess based on the suspicion that Cameron’s thin gruel would prove insufficiently appetising? Or was it simply the expression of a hope which would almost certainly be in vain? It certainly wasn’t thanks to the commentariat, the polls or the markets, which had formed a consensus that Britain would vote to remain in the EU.
If Britain voted to remain, I would treat my friend to something continental – probably pizza. After all, what could be more European? If, however, Britain voted to leave, my friend would treat me to a full English Breakfast: the ‘Brexit Breakfast’. After all, what could be more British?
So, yes – Brexit really did mean breakfast.
In fact, Brexit very nearly meant breakfasts…
The victory breakfast
On referendum night, I acted as one of a number of polling agents overseeing the counting of the votes cast in my city. That meant checking that the people counting counted correctly, as well as looking out for suspicious behaviour. I can report that I did not see any furtive-looking MI5 operatives armed with rubbers.
The process ended at around 3 or 4 o’clock in the morning, when some Leavers and I left to watch the news at someone’s house. By now it very much looked as if Britain had voted to leave the European Union…
We finally parted ways at about 7am having agreed to meet again for a celebratory English breakfast at Whetherspoons. It was a particularly suitable location given that the boss of Whetherspoons had backed Leave .
Unfortunately, by the time I arrived home I was utterly exhausted, having been awake for over 24 hours. I collapsed onto the sofa to watch the Prime Minister resign, before finally going to bed at 9 o’clock – just the time we had, rather ambitiously, agreed on for breakfast…
But that is not to complain! In fact, I’ll take this opportunity to say that the Brexit Breakfast that I later enjoyed was excellent, to extend my thanks to the 17.4 million who voted for my breakfast (albeit indirectly and without the knowledge) and finally, to thank my friend for honouring the bet which he had understandably thought quite a safe one…
Now here’s hoping the Brexit is just as good as the Breakfast, even if it ends up being rather more difficult to serve!