The film was made under the Obama administration, when if it weren't for the Republicans blocking every move he made, the country might still have stood a chance. Michael Moore went round (invading) various countries (mostly European) seeking out their best bits to steal, peacefully and politely, to implement back home. For the greater good.
Things like French school dinners, which look fit to serve in a gourmet restaurant. Or Italian paid annual leave, which runs at seven weeks, with an extra 15 days to cover your honeymoon if you get married, and an extra month's pay in December to help fund Christmas. Or the Finnish education system, which doesn't believe in homework and still gets some of the best results in the world. Or Slovenian universities, which don't charge tuition fees (remember when British ones were like that?). Or the notion of work-life balance in Germany, where your doctor can prescribe you a trip to a spa to relieve everyday stress. Or the Norwegian penal system, where prisons are open and the inmates trusted with knives in the kitchen as they work. Or the Icelandic police, who prosecuted and jailed the bankers who had bankrupted the nation in the 2008 global financial crisis, instead of bailing them out. Or the Portuguese police, who don't arrest people for drug offences any more and have seen drug use fall as a result. Or Tunisian women's rights to health care, family planning and parliamentary representation which, you know, exist.
Note that he didn't bother with us. He took nothing from Britain.
And it made me despair that the British government is now rejecting Europe and all of its brilliant ideas in order to suck up to the lies, mysogyny, extreme right-wing policies and racism of the Trump administration. All because he dangled a little carrot on a stick (yes, little, yes, orange, from the man whose name means fart) and Theresa May is desperate for some sort of trade deal after she makes us turn our backs on the great European Single Market in pursuit of her Daily Mail Brexit. It's disgusting. It's embarassing. It's frightening. How can any of this be happening in 2017?
And given that some countries in Europe have different (and better) laws and rights to Britain, it rather flattens the Leave campaign's argument that Brussels was dictating everything we did and that we needed to "take back control".
So where would my family most like to escape to, once Brexit trashes our lives completely and Trump annexes what's left of the UK as another American state, compounding it with the rising hate crime on our streets, no environmental regulation of what little manufacturing is still functional, and no free health care for anybody?
Well, Finland looked pretty good, with its belief that children should be allowed to just play rather than being trained to perform in standardised tests and nothing more. With our daughter due to sit SATS next year, that has big appeal. She's at a good school which does its utmost to make learning still fun within the draconian confines of Gove's 1950s National Curriculum, but it breaks my heart that she will only get the one childhood, one chance at schooling, and it has to be under this sodding Tory government. Who only care about neat handwriting (when nobody handwrites anything in the real world any more), fractions and archaic grammar rules. (Don't get me wrong, as a linguist I love grammar, but not taught like this.)
We do our best to make sure our daughter does lots of art and play and sport outside of school - things that even Mrs Thatcher let us do in our infant school in the 1970s - but why not go somewhere that just encourages it from the get-go?
|Posh hotel: the SAS Radisson Royal|
Finland was the first place my husband and I went on holiday together, in 2001. It was also the first place we stayed in a properly posh hotel, as top-end business accommodation in Helsinki sells for half price in July and August, when all the Finns retreat to their summer houses. We had a fun few days exploring the capital and its waterfronts and gardens, and all of its architectural styles - the yellow and white palaces reminiscent of St Petersburg, its orthodox and unorthodox cathedrals, its modern art galleries and colourful art nouveau quarters, the fortress on the island of Suomenlinna and Saarinen's unusual granite railway station. We then caught the catamaran from the South Harbour over to beautiful Tallinn in Estonia for the second half of the week.
|Like St Petersburg|
|Modern art gallery|
But I am not sure living so far north, with all that dark in winter and all that light in summer, wouldn't send me just a teensy bit mad.
So where else? Well, those school dinners in France were something else... Scallops, followed by lamb and couscous, followed by creme caramel. They even have a cheese course. How lovely to see kids tucking into a hunk of Camembert with not the red wax husk of a BabyBel or a Cheestring wrapper in sight. It's been much commented on that when they eat out, French kids just eat normal food, unlike their British counterparts, whom restaurants here expect to feed a rotation of fishfingers, beefburgers, chips and pasta in tomato sauce ad infinitum. Although our brats' fussiness seems to be infiltrating across the Channel these days - in Annecy last year it seemed every restaurant offered a menu enfant at vastly inferior gastro quality to the dishes on the a la carte.
|Lake Annecy lunch|
And if Marine Le Pen wins the Presidency, France will become as much of a no-go destination as the US.
So is it time to make my husband learn German? Angela Merkel has an open-door policy for refugees, but by the time Theresa May, Boris Johnson and David Davis have finished offending her in their failed Brexit negotiations, I doubt very much that will include the British.
The hardest thing is knowing that just as we want to go and live somewhere else in Europe, we will no longer have the right to.