In a couple of days' time I will travel to Leipzig. This city of half a million people in the east of Germany has long held a fascination for me, not least because of the extraordinary contribution it has made to German, and thus European, culture, civilisation and democracy. Bach was arguably its most famous resident, but Wagner, Mendelssohn and Schumann all lived and worked there too, producing some of the greatest music that has ever been heard.

In the late 1980s, Leipzig was where the peaceful Monday demonstrations that helped bring down the communist regime of the GDR began and flourished. More recently, meanwhile, the city – dubbed the “new Berlin” - has become an attractive and affordable base for young artists, musicians and entrepreneurs from all over Europe, with the cool restaurants, bars and clubs to match.

Until Friday, I was looking forward to my trip immensely. But now that the UK has voted to leave the European Union, part of me is dreading it. Quite honestly, I am filled with an overwhelming sense of embarrassment and shame. How will I find the words to explain to my German friends what has happened over the last few days? Is it even possible to put a positive spin on the footage they and everyone else in Europe saw on their television screens of the beaming Nigel Farage waving his arms in victory and declaring “independence” for Britain? I feel nauseous at the very thought.

In search of explanation, I will no doubt find words about the anger of white working class communities in England and Wales who have been left behind by globalisation, and how the people who live in them probably felt they had no other way of expressing their deep-rooted frustration than socking it to David Cameron and the EU. I will also mention immigration, of course, and how such communities have come to believe that their jobs have been taken, their wages kept down and their place in the social housing queue stolen by cheap Eastern European labour. I don’t agree with this way of thinking, but I can understand how it develops in people who have been brutalised and ignored by a political class - including by Labour, the party that used to represent them - that is ashamed of their very existence.

What I will perhaps struggle hardest to explain, however, is why these communities – many of which actually have few migrants - seem to think a cynical right-wing cabal of Boris Johnson, Michael Gove and the aforementioned Farage will offer them better solutions than an admittedly flawed, but still socially progressive, continent of Europe. The Welsh town of Ebbw Vale is perhaps a case in point: showered with EU money for roads, apprenticeships and town centre upgrades but shouting “what has Europe ever done for us?” as it voted by 62 per cent to leave.

Perhaps few people in Ebbw Vale and places like it ever had the opportunity or imagination to embrace in a more personal way what EU membership could bring them. I did just that in late 2014 when I simply packed a suitcase, booked a flight and went off to Berlin to work for a German newspaper for a few months. The friendships I made, the writing I did, the language I learned and cultural networks I forged have all become a part of me. It was an experience of a lifetime that both confirmed and augmented my intellectual and social identity as a citizen of Europe. And it can never be undone.

Sadly, the blinkered older generations in England who voted in their droves to leave the EU have just deprived all the UK’s young people of the wonderful opportunities that free movement offers; it is the most selfish political act I have seen in my lifetime.

Don’t get me wrong, the EU itself, that big bureaucratic labyrinth, needs significant reform. Everybody I have ever spoken to in Germany agrees, as I’m sure do many in the likes of Greece and Portugal.

But the bigger intellectual idea of Europe, a rich and diverse civilisation and culture that is available and open to all its citizens, must somehow live on.

I still believe in this dream, as do many of my fellow Scots if the reaction to the last few days is anything to go by. It remains to be seen, however, how hard Scotland will fight to remain a part of Europe, how far its citizens will be prepared to go to secure a modern European future rather than a Little England past. I don’t doubt that this will ultimately mean yet another period of soul-searching for the people of Scotland, yet another big decision at the ballot box.

In the meantime, I will go to Leipzig with a heavier heart than I ever thought possible. Perhaps the music of Bach and Schumann will provide the solace I so badly need.