Betrayal! How Nigel Farage’s bizarre Brexit march to London could become an endless, bladder-shattering mess

Some may be disappointed the march isn’t starting at Stonehenge with a dawn ceremony involving the slaughter of a live French goat

Forget about Tenerife, Corfu or Tuscany – and needing some silly post-Brexit visa to get there. Nigel Farage has come up with the holiday bargain of the year, if not the decade: the Brexit Betrayal march – two weeks trudging around England, this England, in the mizzle.

Here’s the offer, sunseekers. You pay £50 to be a “core marcher” via PayPal to join Nigel’s Brexit Betrayal televised cross-country walk – think of it as Julia Bradbury but without the Julia Bradbury appeal. In return you get the chance to meet Nigel – plus “accommodation”, breakfast and dinner, “free of charge”.

The march is due to start in Sunderland on 16 March, and will wind up in the betrayal capital of Britain, if not the universe, Westminster, on 29 March. On that day, the “Independence day” proclaimed by Farage after the 2016 referendum, you will have some further options. When you get to London you will enjoy the wildest gammon-based knees-up you can imagine, either to mark the day when the UK is restored to the family of nations or to drown your sorrows amid the inevitable treachery of the Euro-elite, whoever they are.

Some may be disappointed the march isn’t starting at Stonehenge with a dawn ceremony involving the slaughter of a live French goat.

Either way you will be inflicting serious damage on your liver and increasing your chances of contracting type 2 diabetes by celebrating/commiserating, not with effete French champagne or gassy German lager, but stronger-hearted English ales with names like Spitfire, Blitz Bombshell, Bitter Boris and Queen Mum’s Speshie. If you manage to get six pints of Boris down you, you’re going to regret if for weeks, let me tell you.

You also get a Farage goodie bag: there’s a Brexit beanie hat, which I hope and expect to be made in one of our great “left behind” Brexit-backing northern textile towns. Perhaps, it too will be Brexit-themed with the face of either Kate Hoey (better known as “Hate Hoey” in her Remain Vauxhall constituency) or Arron Banks in the centre of the union jack motif, like a patriotic version of a Sex Pistols album cover.

With any luck, the Farage Crusade T-shirts will feature a choice of images derived from the famous 2008 Obama/Hope posters, with the audacious features of Bernard Jenkin, John Redwood or Owen Patterson. Maybe gloves with “Leave” and “Remain” on their knuckles will be chucked in. There will certainly be freebie water bottles – environmentally sustainable and handy for those with a weaker bladder.

A nice touch would be an “I’m Backing Brexit” mug manufactured in the Potteries, the epicentre of Euroscepticism, but it seems Stoke-on-Trent isn’t going to get the commission, not this time round.

I hope the weather holds up.

Farage is also offering every “core marcher” a hi-vis jacket, but a proper British blue one, not a Frenchified gilets jaunes one, although ideologically the gilets jaunes and Farageist gilet bleues have far more in common than either side might admit.

Best of all, the marchers will be sustained with a full English breakfast, literally, excluding croissants, President butter on the toast or Danish bacon, and a complimentary dinner, which will, unless I’m very much mistaken be roast (British) beef and Yorkshire puddings – with no vegan options.

There is one potential snag, however. If Brexit is actually betrayed on 29 March, and the date delayed for two months, you may find yourself having to do the whole thing all over again in June… then August… then October… and perhaps until the end of time. Perpetual betrayal. It could be gruelling; but then again for the convinced Brexit conspiracy theorist, to be flung into a permanent state of Eurotreachery-victimhood might be quite pleasant in a sado-masochistic sort of way.

Indeed, there may be something about the Brexit mindset that prefers to be in a state of angry resentment rather than post-Brexit liberation – the long unending march of the Eurosceptics. Some might, if I can use a European reference, be suffering from some kind of Freudian complex.

Anyway, see you on the Final Say march. Cheers!