We set sail at night on the high tide. Mr Cameron told us everything would be fine, that we would manage just as well without them, but it was only when we where out there on the water that we finally understood.
There would be no going back. No picnicking on Camembert in Parisian Parks. No strolling along the canals in Amsterdam with the wind at our back. No tapas in Barcelona, no beer festivals in Düsseldorf. No Alps. It was only then that we thought about all we would miss that we wondered why we had ever left.
Mr Cameron didn’t join us though they’d laid a place for him. We ate our dinner in silence, sausages and mash because the steak au poivre was off our menu. We ordered beer but there was only a choice of Belgian Trappist beer or Dutch lager. We settled for water and raised our glasses to toast our new life outside Europe.