Our best hope after Brexit is a liberal younger generation – who might one day take us back in

As we prepare for life outside the EU, we must make sure our children don’t miss out on what we had

We’ve only gone and done it. We’re out! It took 1,317 days in the end, but yesterday was our last day as part of the European Union. Did we all have a happy Brexit Day? I’m sure we did.

For the first time in my life – and the first time for anyone born after 1 January 1973, for that matter – no more euros!... oh yeah, those came about later and we didn’t use them anyway. But hey, we can use miles again!... oh yeah, we kind of do. Hmmm... maybe our bananas will be more curved?

We’re taking back control. It’s all change from here. Who knows what the future holds?

Time to start stockpiling those meds and, if you fancy it, filling your boots with cheap booze in Calais while you’re at it, because a lot of the changes will only kick in on 31 December when the transition agreement expires. But what does it all mean?

Will our kids still enjoy the French exchange trips that we did as soon as we became teenagers? Ahhh, the fond memories. Memories that I feel were an important part of my independence. It was my first trip away from my parents, my first trip abroad, in fact (though admittedly that was in the stone ages, when cheap travel was not quite what it is now).

Stocking up on firecrackers and leather friendship bands in the supermarche. Wondering whether the family I stayed with would serve me snails for dinner while I attempted to politely decline in my pigeon French-English mash-up. Singing “Frere Jacques” with my classmates as the coach rounded dangerous French hairpin bends, just about refraining from tipping over. Happy times...

These musings and happenings were all de rigueur on such trips (to aptly use a French term). Will our kids have exchange trips to the Isle of Wight instead? Maybe I’m just a doom-monger, but if they do still get taken to France, one thing is clear: there will be way more admin and they will incur way more expense than before. That’s what we can expect on all fronts after leaving.

On Thursday, the day before we finally upped sticks and exited the EU, the government helpfully announced some delightful nuggets, such as that visitors to Europe will face more red tape and financial cost than the travel industry had previously hoped. Great. The online advice they provided stated that the guarantee of free mobile phone roaming throughout the EU will end. Double great. After the transition period ends, motorists intending to drive on their European travels will now need a “green card” – a certificate extending their travel insurance to Europe.

OK, OK, we get it, but what did we expect? You can’t leave a gym and then still expect to use the treadmills.

Along with my school French exchange trip as an eager, bright-eyed Europhile adolescent, my second dose of “parent-free” travel-related independence came post-exams when I went off having adventures round Europe hitchhiking. (I know, this was the stone ages, remember? Things were a bit more laissez-faire to aptly use another French term, and luckily no one wanted to kidnap me.)

The brilliant thing about continental Europe is that it’s just a ferry trip or train ride away if you want it to be. It’s so easy, so near, and so tangible. Fingers crossed it stays that way, as the opportunities it offers to our young for work, study and play are so valuable. They didn’t want out as much as the older folk among us, and they remain our hope if we ever want back in.

We have a responsibility to them to keep Europe in the frame. Not because we’re clinging on to old times, but because we need to remind them that open borders and integrated communities spur us on to grow, to learn language, to embrace culture, and share friendship bracelets from the supermarche.

I’m talking about all the great stuff that Europe has given our little island. The stuff that got lost in the ridiculous sprawling battle of “Them vs Us” that the media has attempted to propagate with the tiresome blow-by-blow coverage of Brussels vs London negotiation and all the other narratives that shaped the picture.

All the slogans, a la (to use yet more French terminology) “take back control” and “leave means leave”, and all the lies, like the one about the £350m we give the EU that would be better spent on the NHS. Yep, the very same NHS that has already lost 10,000 EU nationals since the Brexit referendum, including 5,000 nurses. Merde – pardon my, err, French.

The biggest factor driving Brexit in 2016 was immigration, whereas in the 2019 election, immigration hardly played a role. It’s all down to what’s fed to us PR-wise at the time.

Young people have grown up in a more integrated, multicultural society than any of us “pre-millennials” did, and they only know what they’re used to. The melting pot of cultures, races and ethnic backgrounds is their norm. We need to make sure that they don’t get used to being an island nation to the extent that they’ll miss out on all that Europe offers right on our doorstep.

But in the words of Whitney Houston (as opposed to using yet more French – need to start extricating really, don’t I?) “I believe the children are our future.”

It’s obvious they’re leaps and bounds ahead of us. Look at climate change and the youth protests, LBGT+ rights, the growing popularity of veganism and vegetarianism, and so on. They aren’t cynical and jaded and set in their ways like we are, and so the future could be very bright.

I really believe children are shaped and formed in their primary years, when the blueprint for the adults they are to become is drawn up. If they embrace the values of inclusivity, altruism and “stronger together” while young, they will take them through the rest of their lives.

Any PR person will tell you how hard it is to get us “grown-ups” to change washing powder brand, let alone turn into an eco-conscious or a plant-based eater when they’ve spent a lifetime doing otherwise. Children, though, are blank canvasses; they only know what we expose them to.

Maybe one day they’ll get us back into the EU, and reap the benefits of their labours. Who knows? Maybe we’ve screwed it up for good. But whatever the outcome, for now, leave means leave. C’est la vie. And that’s the last French term you’ll hear from me for this column.