av Det kom en forferdelig høy tuting. Ikke bare en gang, men flere ganger. Vi skvatt. På hotellets takterrasse i en verdens eldste byer – Cádiz, satt vi og tok et glass på ettermiddagen sammen med våre skotske venner. Nede på havna lå det et formidabelt stort cruiseskip. Britisk, kunne vi se selv om det var et stykke unna. Men det var ikke tutingen som gjorde at våre venner krympet seg. Det var sangen som kom etterpå. De så oppgitt på oss og nærmest unnskyldte det som foregikk nede på cruiseskipet. Der runget ” Rule, Britannia! Britannia, rule the waves” utover hele byen. Våre skotske venner beklaget at det fortsatt var englendere som trodde at de levde i det britiske imperiet hvor sola aldri går ned. Disse englenderne hadde ikke fått med seg at at det stort sett bare var Storbritannia igjen av det gamle imperiet. Eller UK, United Kingdom, som våre skotske venner foretrekker å kalle det. Og snart er det ikke så mye igjen av UK heller.
There was a terribly loud hooting. Not just once, but several times. We startled. On the hotel’s roof terrace in one of the world’s oldest cities – Cádiz, we sat and had a drink in the afternoon with our Scottish friends. Down at the harbor was a formidably large cruise ship. British, we could see even if it was some distance away. But it was not the honking that made our friends uncomfortable. It was the song that came afterwards. They looked at us in despair and almost apologized for what was happening down on the cruise ship. It resounded “Rule, Britannia! Britannia, rule the waves” throughout the city. Our Scottish friends regretted that there were still Englishmen who believed that they lived in the British Empire where the sun never sets. These Englishmen had not realized that it was largely only Britain left by the old empire. Or the UK, United Kingdom, as our Scottish friends prefers to call it. And soon there will be not much left of the UK either.
