If I needed a fresh visa to visit today, I'm unlikely to have got it.
Journalists like to think that the world would be finished without them. Nothing illustrates this vanity more than the joke by my old school journalism teacher that even when the world ends, reporters will be there to tell those in paradise what is happening on the other side.
This illusion deprives the profession of its sanity. It keeps reporters chasing an endless news cycle where bad news is good copy. A moment’s respite creates a sense of guilt and panic, and rest can sometimes feel like a luxury.
I decided, after 60, that it would be mad to continue in this tradition; that at least, once every year, I will learn again what normal life feels like. So, I rested my column for three weeks and decided to go to America at a time when many normal people will ask what on earth I’m looking for in a country whose president is not in the mood for immigrants. It’s easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than to visit America these days.
Getting a visa
