How the nation watched on as nothing changed – except This Morning was cancelled to cover Brexit

There is no clearer sign of the forthcoming apocalypse than the suspension of Holly and Phil running through new trends in vagina steaming and the latest in high street Capri pants

Nigel Farage, leader of Ukip, speaks to the media on College Green in London after Britain voted to leave the European Union (AP)

Like many, I watched the referendum’s ‘morning after’ coverage through a cerebral squall of sleeplessness, dwindling adrenalin and growing hysteria.

Here was Farage on Sky News, arms akimbo with joy, surrounded by pinch-faced lackies celebrating our exit from Europe. “Dare to dream,” Farage grinned, invoking a magical Britain where single-bananas are plentiful and road jams on the M25 (caused by foreigners) are but a harrowing memory. Or whatever it was Farage promised.

By 8am, on the Good Morning Britain sofa with Susanna Reid, Farage was already backtracking on the £350m per week he’d vowed to snatch from the hands of Brussels fat cats and pour directly into the NHS. Farage had, surprisingly, suddenly realized that was “a mistake”. Reid’s face was similar to mine when I found the cat has coughed up a vole corpse over my Mulberry Daria.

Still, no time to quibble as shortly after, David Cameron announced his resignation as Prime Minister, choking-up during his summation that he “loved his country”.

The events came as a surprise to Victoria Derbyshire’s guest ‘Adam’, an everyman Leave voter. “I’m a bit shocked to be honest,” he said, scratching his head. “I’m shocked that we actually have voted to Leave. I didn’t think that was going to happen. My vote… I didn’t think was going to matter too much because I thought we were just going to Remain…”

But Adam, your vote did count. And now Farage was drunk on power, Cameron had quit and there were calls for the head of Jeremy Corbyn, accompanied by the now standard footage of Corbyn storming around with his press secretary Seumas Milne like moth-eaten Reservoir Dogs.

Then came the more unsettling moment of all: ITV announced the cancellation of Loose Women and This Morning to concentrate on events. There is no clearer sign of the forthcoming apocalypse than the suspension of Holly and Phil running through new trends in vagina steaming and the latest in high street Capri pants. None. By midday, Britain had a Shaun of The Dead feel. We just needed to find The Winchester, have a nice cold pint, and wait for all this to blow over.

But how could we step away from our screens when now Nicola Sturgeon was politely laying the ground work for another Scottish referendum? Not now Scotland! Not like this! Can’t we have some time to think?

Then Francois Holland, Angela Merkel and Jean-Claude Junker were stood behind lecterns politely suggesting we sling our hooks. The marriage was over. It didn’t matter if we needed somewhere to leave our CDs and clothes until we sorted it all out. It was going in a bin bag by the weekend.

One distinct thing missing from the rolling news was a plethora of jubilant Outies. Britain had spoken. Up yours Johnny Foreigner, they’d roared.

Still, Boris and Gove’s victorious press conference had the joie de vivre of a wake. Where was jolly Bozza with his quips and his spirited jingoism. Not a hint of zip wire Boris. He’d even ran a comb over his hair. Gove’s speech had the air of a man who’d never, ever expected to win and now found himself in the eye of a hurricane.

By 2pm Tom Cheshire, a Sky News reporter was live in Portsmouth disembarking a ferry to report on the brave new ‘morning after’ world. “Tom had the idea,” Dermot Murnaghan said, “Of traveling the Channel on a passenger ferry to see on his return how Britain had changed.” It was a fine idea. And now Tom was back. “Now Tom, nothing has changed yet,” Dermot said, “Or will change for a very long time. And how it will change no one really knows. But, Tom, what do the passengers on board the ferry think of the new Great Britain?”

Tom concluded that although nothing had changed, everything had changed, and no one knew how. It was a profound moment, and exactly the right time to go to bed.