By Arnold Jansen op de Haar

‘Bow Tie’ had already warned me. Bow Tie is a man of about eighty years, and I’ve nicknamed him Bow Tie after his ever-present bow tie. Every Saturday, he comes to our stall on Portobello Market for a chat. He talks to many of the stallholders. He has been a market trader himself.

Bow Tie has fought in Korea and played ice hockey in the British national team. He walks as if he has just taken off his skates. He once got into a fight with the military police on the Reeperbahn in Hamburg. At the funeral of Margaret Thatcher he seriously considered baring his buttocks along the route of the funeral cortege. He never forgets to attend his regimental reunions.

Last week, I asked him how he would vote in the referendum. He hesitated. I said: ‘Remain?’ Bow Tie burst out laughing. He said: ‘I don’t know anyone who will vote remain.’ Bow Tie is old-fashioned Labour. The group of voters Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn has lost.

Well, Bow Tie lives in Twickenham, and he also knows half the stallholders on Portobello Road, which he visits every Saturday afternoon for nostalgic reasons. And if Bow Tie says that he knows no one who will vote for staying in the EU, he is speaking the truth. And, actually, we’re talking about London, where a majority of people have voted for remain. But even here in London Labour has lost its traditional voters. Bow Tie is a living political barometer.

I was prepared for the referendum result. When, on polling day, the stock markets remained buoyant and the pound remained sky high, it made me think of Bow Tie. Yes, this type of result is annoying, of course. The publisher had already suggested lobbying the Dutch ambassador for dual citizenship (in the Netherlands, having dual nationality is on the whole not allowed).

There are, of course, other solutions available, such as a union between the US and the UK. A proper trading union without the EU bureaucracy. Or couldn’t London become a special area inside the UK? London, the Hong Kong of Europe! Or, maybe, all of us three million Europeans who live here should become British. That would change the political landscape. You start having the strangest thoughts.

Because the results were quite a bombshell. Yes, the cashpoints still work, and there is no rationing yet. However, Northern Ireland and Scotland are threatening to become independent. The referendum night was one of those nights during which you think: ‘When will Mum and Dad come to collect me?’

Last Saturday, the British market traders – and their number is dwindling – were elated. ‘Out, out, out,’ they shouted at each other. And yes, they felt for the publisher, who owns a British company and has been living here for over thirty years. ‘You, of course, will be allowed to remain,’ someone told her. So that’s OK, then.

In the Netherlands there is quite a bit of name-calling as far as the British are concerned. That hurts me, because I like the British people. I feel at home here and I’m not an expat. I’m here to stay.

The Brits themselves are also a bit taken aback by the result. As if it only happened by accident. Everyone kept saying there was no plan for a Brexit, but now that it has transpired that there really isn’t a plan, even the winners are a bit downcast.

Last Saturday, I had my picture taken with Paddington Bear. He was on the market. Paddington Bear comes from Peru. Both of us are immigrants. After the outcome, I, too, feel orphaned. The Mayor of London has said that I have nothing to fear. But, just like Paddington Bear, I would like to attach a label to my coat with this text: Please look after this bear. Thank you.

© Arnold Jansen op de Haar
© Translation Holland Park Press

Visit Arnold’s home page to find out more about his other publications.

Previous columns:
Letter to the British People
Dinner with Louis and José
An Anglophile European
Mary Magdalene of Notting Hill
No Hugging of Brits!
The God of Rochester
A ‘Bare Buttocks Face’
A Coach Full of Exes
On a Knife Edge
A Very British Secret
End-of-Year Chat
A Cigar in Brussels
Burning a Catholic
Ted or Sylvia?
Unsuitable for Class War
England-bound
The Weather in Arnhem
Accident & Emergency
The Plumber and the Little Prince
A Trojan Horse
Pilloried!
Portobello Hipster
A Celebration Every Day
Diana is Back
Loved by All
Cooking in Peacetime
A Bit of a Genetic Mess
Email a Fairy
A Peeing Neanderthal
Fictional Brits
Bare Burka
Is Van Gaal a Turkey?
An Estate Agent in High Heels
A Boy from Westminster
Adventure in Amsterdam
Amalia & George
Cheering Quietly
Human Waste
D-Day for Poetry
A Dog in London
Van Gaal and Wurst
Baby King George
The Virgin Train from Birmingham
Nuclear Hospitality
Vladimir the Viking
Ski Girl with Moustache
Phoenix
Message From the Bathtub
A Consistent Resolution
Nigella’s Law
Selfie
Cowboy in the Kingdom