Today I officially became a British citizen! I attended a ceremony at Dunfermline City Chambers, mouthing the words to God Save The Queen while seagulls squabbled outside.
The Provost told us new inductees that we should be “proud of our achievement”. But obtaining citizenship is not so much an achievement as a display of endurance and financial commitment. It’s been 6.5 years and about £2,500 in Home Office fees. Now that I’m on the other side I can freely bitch about those stinking Home Office fees.
Cynicism aside, I loved the minor pomp of the ceremony and it’s great to be an official Fifer. Eh! Ken!
I reluctantly moved across the water to Dunfermline in 2005, just before I married Doctor G. I thought it was a grotty hellhole – incomprehensible accents, crappy shops and pavements strewn with exploded kebabs. But now The Dunny feels like home. Even if we could afford to move back to Edinburgh I think I’d stay here. As much as I miss Edinburgh’s cafes and concerts, I like my tiny commute, my kickboxing club, the countryside access and laughing at the stupid peacocks strutting down the high street.
How could you not love a town that gives you a commemorative mug for becoming a citizen?
It features stunning Fife attractions like historic Culross, St Andrews cathedral, the Rosyth Dockyard and the Forth Rail Bridge (The Greatest Feat of Victorian Engineering™).
And a puffin.
And for some unknown reason, a Chinese dragon thingy.
Catchy slogan, eh?
So with dual UK/Oz citizenship, I have permanent access to two lovely nations and my wrestles with bureaucracy are finally OVER! Unless of course, we move back to Australia and Gareth can experience the joys of the Department of Immigration.