So, give or take a couple of weeks in France, I have been in the UK now for about nine weeks. I was born here. I lived the first 15 years of my life here. And yet, as a returning native I am treated often with suspicion and mistrust.

It all boils down to crime and terrorism (of which I subscribe to neither), and the resulting tightening of security in so many aspects of British society. On more occasions than I can count now I have had to prove my identity beyond a shadow of a doubt. And get this, a passport is not enough, and nor is a driving licence. No, the clinching document in so many transactions is... a gas bill. Or an electricity bill. Or in fact any utility bill or bank statement addressed to you at your abode.

The problem Liz and I face is, we don't have an abode. We don't own a property here, and we're not renting, therefore we don't get utility bills. I have, fortunately, had a British Natwest account for 30 years, and have arranged for statements to be sent to my mate's place near Liverpool where I've been staying, so that helps in a small way.

But even though Liz is married to me, Natwest refuse to add her name to my account without seeing a utility bill or similar addressed to her at the same address I am staying at. This despite the fact we have our marriage certificate with us!

I have been refused a rental car because I can't produce a utility bill, I have been refused a new bank account for the same reason. Liz wanted to open an account for her daughter Yasmin but because she had no fixed address was refused. We cant even sign up for Lotto! The list goes on.

The result is that it is not a 'welcome home' and we are glad we are ultimately heading to France. However, France too is noted for its crippling bureaucracy, so we are in fear of what that will mean over there. The terrorists and money-launderers have won.

And funnily enough, the mistrust actually started in New Zealand when I was trying to take out travel insurance for the journey over here. Could I? No... because I was on a one-way ticket!! (Luckily the travel agent sorted something for me, but I mean to say...)

But enough whinging (my right as a Pom!); we are slowly establishing a presence and identity, and ultimately will own property and become "real". In the meantime I have renewed respect for anyone who is homeless.