June 18th, 2007
I believe they are speaking English. It is really hard to establish for sure if indeed they are. I thought to myself when we decided to come to London; well at least they speak English. There have been many times when we have all looked at each other to see if any of us understood what was just spoke to us. In my opinion, they speak way too fast. They speak as if they are talking with a mouthful of cotton baton. But mostly they mumble. Besides this, I am told they do speak “English”.
The colloquialisms are absolutely “brilliant”, actually “bloody brilliant”. I have been called “Madame”, “lovey”, and “my dear”. I am sure this was to take me away from my stroppy mood.
I have seen bashers, bangers and mash on breakfast menus. We have been offered orange squash and enjoyed it. I had to suss out the difference between chips and crisps. I love jacket potatoes. Goodness knows what baps are. I have enjoyed my sweets and biscuits with a cuppa. Pub grub is not bad especially with a pint of ale or cider. However, I could easily gain a stone if I was to continue to enjoy the starters, elevens and afters.
I’ve queued up for the loo more often than not and paid twenty pence for the public convenience. Paid or unpaid, it can be a dicey affair.
I have learned that their subway is called the tube. Also subway and underground are not interchangeable. Speaking of not interchangeable; if you ask the waiter for a napkin instead of a serviette, he would probably smile and send you off to the chemist.
I know bonnet and boot have little to do with fashion and more to do with a car. Petrol is dear at almost two quid per liter.
I have not needed Wellingtons or a Mac, although I have used my brolly, and like in Calgary if you don’t like the weather just wait a tick.
I get a little confused at the fact that I come into a store at street level and have to go up to find the first level. The confusion only comes when you are trying to find the way out on this level. Way out is the most important words you need to leave the tube.
Our bus operator was jolly enough to point out the store where the queen buys her knickers. I bet it wasn’t a cheap and nasty place.
I was thinking of knocking up (visit) Betty and John, but they are knackered after a day of seeing the full Monty. And no they did not see people completely starker’s, but from trying to see the whole shebang in one day.
Well since it is half nine, I should put a sock in it and maybe watch a little telly.
One more word for you: MIND THE GAP
WKH
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3 comments:
Hey mom! That was a brilliant post. Fantastic!
cheerio mom! bloody brilliant, in fact!
(so much of what you have written has worked its way into my everyday vocab, or at least passive vocab because of my mixed english-speaking friends and co-workers....but you did a fantastic job bringing it all together...)
it's just as funny to hear a brit mock a north american....imagine those people saying "right on man, awesome!"....hehehehe.
Ahh this brings back alot of memories of being in London. I remember all too often, having a stunned look on my face trying to figure out what was just said!!!And yes we came home saying "MIND THE GAP"
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