diary4At 7 o’clock I cycle to my polling station to vote. Yes, I’m entitled to vote in local elections and apparently also for the police commissioner. No, despite fifteen years of life in Oxford and Britain I have no say in the EU referendum or in national elections.
A small crowd is gathered near the door. The door is locked. Soon a lady in very apologetic tone approaches me to explain they got the wrong keys and for now the voting operations are transferred in the churchyard. Elsewhere, this would be a major scandal with opposing parties accusing each other of vote-rigging, here people seems to be enjoying the lovely (and unusual) early morning sun. I overheard the person in charge for the polling station complaining the city council’s electoral office where problems like a wrong key are to be reported opens only at 9am.
On my way to the train station, I did a bit of math: to date I have lived 36% of my life in Oxford, 64% in Naples, and 100% in the EU. Hopefully I don’t need to get out my calculator on 23rd June to recalculate the latter.