In London on Monday, 8/6/15, I was interested to see on the travel page of the Metro, a piece about the problems of gay couples travelling together. This is not a matter of visiting hostile places like Russia or Zimbabwe and pretending to be just friends sharing a room. This is about the need, very obvious apparently, for a room with a double bed. The writer noted that there might ‘be a problem on the Galapagos Islands, as there is no sizable gay community living there yet.’
There are 25,000 people living there now, including about 5,000 illegal immigrants. The international community is so worried that the population boom on the remote islands made famous by Darwin, is threatening its unique wildlife that the World Heritage Committee has recently asked for the Galapagos to be placed on the list of ‘world heritage in danger.’
Strangely the lack of hotel rooms with beds suitable for sodomy has not been given as another cause for concern. But the UK gay community seems to be as burgeoning and unstoppable as the island population. When I was young homosexuals still largely went about bearing, ‘the love that dare not speak its name.’ In the 1970s my gay friends, all men, I didn’t know any Lesbians, from university seemed to take on more power.
After working in retail, places like Jean Junction at weekends, they migrated to London and colonised west end theatre box offices. As I was desperately trying to find a room I admired their ability to find flats and jobs through other gay contacts. They always seemed to have a ready- made community to support them. Then came the AIDS crisis when they took on the extra status given by victimhood. They became internationally pitiable, only the State of Israel caused more breast-beating among the big charitable givers in America.
Now they’ve settled down into sexual and political lobbying, leading national secular societies whilst at the same time demanding parity in marriage, tumescent in ranks by increasing numbers of Lesbians and transgendered people. They are a new interest group beginning to make loud demands for recognition as victims and for expensive NHS realignment surgery.
Sex is now combined with ugly, angry political self-interest, an essential part of the, I’m very special and I want it now culture, unrecognisable to our parent’s generation. This has fused uncongenially with the cult of self-gratification, so that it is even unacceptable to be asked to spend a few nights in an extraordinary, exceptional environment where only wealthy tourists are privileged to go, without the guarantee of penetrative sex.