So. Where are you from?

When I was 10, one of my very best friends was a boy named Ngo Ngoc Dung. He was from Vietnam. I knew his skin colour was different to mine and I also knew he spoke English in a very much different accent to anything I'd heard before, but he was great. I was sad when his family moved away.

Growing up in what was then one of the largest housing estates in Europe built to house large portions of the massively over-populated City of Portsmouth mass immigration passed me by, so it's something I cant really comment about so I won't.

But we did have some, and Ngo was fantastic. He would show me some of the homework his father had set for him (and there started my utter dread of algebra) luckily it would be a couple more years before I would see that in a textbook myself. And during lunchbreak we would decamp to the far side of the playground and bat a tennis ball at each other for 30 minutes before the bell rang for lessons once more.

Why would that be important? Well, simply put, it's not

But when I reflect back over my 50 years on this planet, I've always thought of myself as English-British-European, Quite simple really. I was born here. Both my parents were English born. All 4 of my grandparents were Londoners as were all of my great grandparents. 

However. Like most (I presume) I would also imagine that somewhere along that not too distant timeline would be the genes of someone who was born outside of the capital. And in all probability there would eventually be someone from a different country altogether (I'm hoping Poland) and that would be pretty cool (or maybe Scotland)

But one thing I can be absolutely certain of is the fact that I am a mongrel and bloody proud of it I am too.

The recent transformation of Emma Raducanu from promising British Tennis player to the most talked about sportsperson on the planet reignited the still red hot embers of Brexit and the question of immigration.

In fact, the fires have never really died down. But Miss Raducanu has gone from being the tiniest IED into a political thermonuclear warhead.

For shame.

So when does a foreigner become British?

Well if I knew the answer to that then I would also be able to fix all racism and all sexism in the World and win some kind of "Brilliant Bloke" award and go on a World tour espousing my brilliance to all. then I would return home as a hero and probably write a self help book on how to be brilliant.

I don't know the answer, because there is no answer. There is an official, legal answer of course, but for many you still need a lot more than that to be properly British. And that's where things unravel. This is where the arguments begin and they will never end for many.

But personally, living in my own little World here on the South Coast I can only bask in the beauty of how this nation of mongrels continues to diversify.

I have worked alongside Romanians, Polish, Estonians, Latvians, Portuguese & Chinese as well as many others among many, many other nationalities

My dentist is Indian and my doctor is Pakistani. my local corner shop is run by Indians, my local Chinese is run by English people & the chippy is run by a Chinese family. My plumber is English and my favourite car mechanic is Scottish. The best Indian restaurant near to me is staffed by Bangladeshi's.

British culture always has been and always will be an evolving myriad of people from all nations.

Are we the best country in the World? Of course not. No country can claim to be the best country in the World that argument is just plain silly.

Are we a melting pot of mongrels forever evolving

Yes we are. And I'm very proud of that.