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 Photo: St. Ives harbor, Cornwall
First impressions
Although we had been to London any number of times, on arriving to my place of work (south of Oxford), the first impression of England outside of London was one of smallness. Everything in England is smaller than in the States. The refrigerators and stoves are smaller, the roads are narrower and the cars smaller, the rooms in houses are much smaller, parking spaces are nerve-wrackingly smaller. And, once outside the city, there seems to be much less glitz. The glitz is replaced by grit and a transparent integrity that is a wondrous feature of British life.
[Note: Oxfordshire is an upper-middle class location. It is not all of Britain which varies enormously in class, income, dialects and customs. Also, while we were lucky to have discovered an open and friendly village--typical of the English--other US friends had bad luck in that regard. Moving really out to the sticks, they were never accepted.]
Another impression was that of the great natural civility of the British people. They are just nicer -- more polite--at least on the surface -- than the average New Yorker or the average Bostonian. They are certainly nicer than me. I found that my East Coast bluntness caused raised eyebrows. Approaching a stranger on the street and blurting out "Which way is Charing Cross Road?" was met with a start -- although the response was always polite. The British approach would be: "Oh, excuse me. I'm terribly sorry to bother you. I seem to be lost. Could you tell me..." Note the indefiniteness which is a characteristic of British diffidence, and especially when it comes to giving geographical directions -- a task totally outside British competence.
If it is true that women navigate by means of signposts, (i.e., turn left at a red gas station, then go right after the RR tracks, etc.), and men do so by means of spatial coordinates (head north two miles and then turn east at the lights), then the British are clearly all women. Roads often have no posted name, but merely indicate the way to a town or village. Addresses are a series of narrowing down of locations with no real indication where any of them are. In the US, the States are well delineated, and well-known; in England, there are so many tiny towns in counties whose location is often barely known, that describing where you live can become a series of twenty questions: "Do you where High Wycombe is? No? Well do you know Reading...?"
An unlovely aspect of the quaint fashion of naming houses rather than numbering them, is that once you do find the street on which a house you are seeking is located, there is no method for finding the actual house except to ask, or search them out one-by-one! No "natural" method of finding locations in a land where people have no natural inclination to giving clear directions can result in much fun exploring the countryside.
There was (and still is) a Great Legal Snag in coming over here when getting a place to live. As part of strict new counter-terrorism laws, banks will not open a checking account until you have proof of a local home address. Naturally, real estate companies will not sign a lease without a bank account. This "regrettable" catch-22 was finally solved when we simply sent the real estate agent three months rent and letter from my employer (which I signed as CEO!!) stating that I was not a money launderer, drug lord, etc., and was here on legitimate business.
Unbelievably, AOL would not transfer my screen name to my British account. I had to take on a new screen name. (What is the use of "international" companies, if they are not international?) I used my American account for several months, but the phone bills were killing me, forcing me to change to a British account.
AOL has been a boon for the traveling executive. I have never not been able to get on anywhere in the civilized world -- until recently. Recently, hotels have made it impossible to unplug the room telephone and dial out over your computer. The same hotels in Japan in which that worked just fine in 2000 did not work in 2002. It may have to do with their switching to digital dialing, whereas the computer modem is analog. Or, it may simply be a way for them to sell you (at $10-$15/day) an in-room high speed modem service. Well, at least it's not the $24.95/day of the Plaza in NYC. Once the modem was rented, AOL connection was once again a snap.
Driving on the wrong side
Everyone who comes to England worries about the problem of having to drive on the left side of the road. So did I. But, except for one 'orrible scenario, it is not as difficult as it seems -- at least not the wrong-side-of-the-street problem. True, I often went to the wrong side of the car to get in; and true, a number of times I pulled out of a driveway and drove down the wrong side of the road. But the latter was only when there were no cars in sight -- and quickly corrected when one appeared. The horrible exception is that of pulling out of a side street into traffic -- and looking the wrong way. That can result in you pulling out directly into an oncoming car going 60 mph. You will be T-boned and very likely hurt or killed. One or two close calls will be enough to awake your subconscious to this deadly error, and after that you will remember to look "the wrong way" at all times.
(Learning to shift with the left hand on manual transmissions was a breeze as well.)
Your US license is good for one year before you are obliged to get a UK license. It may be that this one-year grace period is measured from the last time you were in your native country. So bring your State-side driver's license AND an international license, available from any AAA in the States, member or not.
The real problems with driving in Great Britain are two: Directions and narrow roads. To save money, England has very few clover-leaf interchanges. Instead, the Brits use roundabouts (i.e., rotaries or traffic circles). But these roundabouts can be big -- a 100 yards across. When the roundabout plot is wooded, you lose track of where you came in from and we tended to get lost and exit too early. This confusion is compounded by the fact that many times you are not driving on a named road, and the exits of the roundabout merely give village names -- names you never heard of.
The solution is -- if in doubt--to go around the roundabout again. Also, when navigating with a map, keep in mind the names of the large towns that lie in your intended direction, so when you spot their names on the exit ramp signs, you'll recognize the way to go.
On the plus side, all junctions (intersections) are very well marked with the names of towns toward which the road heads. However, once on the road, you'll rarely see its name or number (or direction) given. Asking a local how to get onto the A-34 "going north" will likely get a blank stare. "You mean to Oxford, or to Newbury?" will be his reply.
However, the narrow-roads aspect of driving in England was much harder to master. In my life I have probably driven 300,000 miles, a lot of it in ski country through snow drifts, on ice and snow-covered highways, in and out of treacherous ski parking lots, etc. And, as a youth, I learned to drift my Alfa-Romeo around sweeping bends on public roads. So I considered myself an experienced driver. What I was totally unprepared for was the high-speed and close proximity at which cars pass each other in opposite directions on the narrow English roads. Most country roads have no shoulder; instead, the edge of the road may be an M-1 tank-resistance hedgerow, or a brick property wall. That tends to push you over toward the middle-line of the road -- which is not very far -- a solution of which you will be quickly disabused by the rush of on-coming cars passing in the opposite direction just inches from the line. England abounds in decapitated driver-side rear-view mirrors!
Let me just say that trips on those roads initially consisted of many moments of sheer terror. It took 3000 miles of driving with my heart leaping regularly into my throat before I began to get used to it. At night, now with 5000 miles under my belt, it is still nerve-wracking, but I am making progress. Of course on the Motorways (the M-named roads) this is no problem. They are much like the American Interstate highways. And many A-named roads with one or two digits are also wide. But 4-digit A roads and all B-roads are to be selected only after you've got some real miles behind you.
In order to get your British driving license , you must first apply (with passport) for a learner's permit. This can be done by mail if you want to trust your passport to the Royal Mail. But it is better to do in person, because then you can pay a few extra quid and have the functionary check your application and, essentially, guarantee it is correct. Otherwise, if there is an error, you have to resend it.
There are two tests -- the theory, which you can pass by studying the manual. In November 2002, a second theory section was added to the theory test: a video game section which asks you to "identify risks" in the driving scenes that unfold on the computer screen in front of your eyes. This is a nasty exercise, because to the British driving authorities anything is a risk; people standing at a cross walk (even though you have the light); If you are an experienced driver, you will recognize that people do not leap off the street to throw themselves at you, or you will recognize that there is plenty of time to stop for a truck that is halted up ahead. Not good enough for the new test. Each of these "hazards" poses a potential risk, and you must identify them long before they pose a potential danger.
You cannot pass the driving test which is a Stalinist exercise in moral rectitude without taking at least one or two lessons (£20/hr) from a professional driving instructor. Recognize that the driving test is NOT to find out if you are a safe driver, but to determine if you have learned the approved British driving technique TO THE LETTER. The quirks of the test are:
- You must shinny the steering wheel to make turns. No crossing arms.
- You must put the handbrake on EVERY TIME YOU COME TO A STOP for more than a few seconds. (No, this is not a misprint). Stop at a stop sign: Use hand brake. Stop for a red light: use handbrake. Stop at a crosswalk: use the handbrake. (This is a hold-over from the days before automatic transmissions.)
- You cannot brake with the right foot, as many drivers of automatic transmission cars do. In fact, if you take your driving test in an automatic, your license will be restricted to driving only automatic cars--which may not be as easy to get at car rental places.
- And, you only signal when there is someone to see you do it. When pulling out from the curb, you are obliged to look and decide if signaling is necessary. If there's no one there, don't signal--just pull out. To signal in such a maneuver would be to commit an error.
- Whenever starting up, backing up, pulling away, changing lanes, you must look all-over everywhere about ten times. You can't look about you often enough. If the light changes suddenly, you are obliged to first look in your rear-view mirror to see if the guy behind you would be endangered before deciding if you want to brake hard or slip through.
- There is a weird back-up maneuver they ask you to make in which you park alongside the curb on a corner, and then back around into a cross street. Not only to you have to look around ten times in every direction, but you can't be more than a few inches from the curb--or strike it. This takes some practice.
- You are obliged to bring with you a suction-cup rear-view mirror that the examiner--who sits next to you in the front seat--sticks on the windshield to watch the traffic behind you.
I was a nervous as a cat on a hot tin roof and failed the test the first time around (like 42% of the British public). The second time was MUCH easier for me--as it is for most people--and I sailed through.
When You Leave
We experienced a nasty hangover after we left England to return to Boston. Eleven months after I had switched my American Express credit card from the British version to the American version, the British American Express accepted an invoice from McAfee renewing our one-time, one-year subscription to their anti-virus service. (Forget the fact that McAfee illegally kept my credit-card record for a single purchase--i.e. malice
aforethought. Forget the fact that they didn't notify us of this renewal, and forget the fact that when one tried to telephone them, their lines were so jammed, the telephone company had to intervene.) My other credit cards were also racking up charges, even though on each bill I wrote in to cancel the account.
Apparently, no one at MasterCard and Visa in England is actually authorized to accept a cancellation that is not notarized by the Lord Mayor himself.
So keep two careful records: One of which credit cards you take on, and then dutifully write a formal letter to each one when you leave unequivocally cancelling them. And the other, of all the on-going charges you charge to credit cars, such as your TV license, fuel oil, electric, etc. Even so, be prepared to contest charges long after you are gone--over, and over again.
[July 2005: Oh, no. Another dunning notice from Inland Revenue, this one assessing me £100 "1st Fixed Penalty for Late Return 03/04." Nothing seems to work , even a letter received two months ago in which they dubiously acknowledged my claim not to have been living in England since 2002.]
[August 2005: Oh-no. Not again. Another dunning letter from Inland Revenue. It is clear they do not read my letters to them; now I see that they don't even read their own letters to me! ]
English
"English is a language separated by two countries" (Churchill). Although most of the words are the same, they are not used the same way. Thus, you can usually figure out what an Englishman is saying, but you, an American won't use the same words. Some words are totally different.
But the two elements that most separate American and English speech are the manner in which statements are made, and, of course pronunciation.
Compared to Americans (by which I mean Northeasterners like me), the British seem very diffident, or indirect. Questions are often preambled with an introductory remark to set the stage. "To have a word" with some one symbolizes this understatement. What is meant is that one wants to have many words with the person, i.e., to talk to him.
The other aspect is pronunciation. For Americans there is really only one simple rule: Slowly change the way you pronounce words which contain the vowel "a." Although many words are pronounced differently (and often this is only which syllable is stressed), the sound that grates British ears the most is the American "a" sound. Switch from See-NAIR-ee-oh (scenario) to See-NAHR-ee-oh; switch from NASS-tee (nasty) to NAHS-tee; switch from dis-ASS-ter (disaster) to dis-AHS-ter, and you will immediately stop beating an audience over the head with your grating Yank vernacular. Do not, however, try to talk with a British accent. It takes a lifetime to master Received Pronunciation (most Britishers never achieve it!) and while you may think you can mimic an English accent, and might fool your Bronx grocer, believe me, you cannot fool the English.
Shown here is a list of some of the English vocabulary and phrases that differs from American. Important words are highlighted.
(By the way, the word "Thames" --as in the River Thames which meanders through London--is pronounced "tems.")
| British Term |
American Term |
| Bear with me |
Please hold (telephone) |
| Bespoke |
Custom (made) |
| Biscuit |
Cookie |
| Bits |
Parts |
| Bitter |
Soft, swampy, warm beer (nice) |
| Lager, Pilsner |
Regular beer |
| Stout |
Bock beer |
| Strongbow (a cider beer) |
Zima (sweet beer) |
| Cider |
Fermented cider (sweet) |
| Scrumpy cider |
Sour fermented apple juice (ugh) |
| Bollocks, a load of |
Bullshit (n), SNAFU |
| Bonnet |
Hood (auto) |
| Boot |
Trunk (auto) |
| Drophead coup |
Convertible |
| Saloon |
Sedan |
| Lorry |
Truck |
| Estate wagon |
Station wagon |
| NA |
"Drive north..." |
| Central reservation |
Highway median strip |
| Slip road |
Exit/Entrance ramp |
| Diversion |
Detour |
| Give way |
Yield |
| Junction |
Intersection |
| Pull up |
Pull over |
| Return ticket |
A round-trip ticket |
| Flat |
Apartment |
| Flat tyre |
A flat |
| Road layout changes |
lanes change ahead |
| Roundabout |
Traffic circle |
| Route signs at junctions only |
Route signs along the route |
| Current account |
Checking account |
| "Cheers" |
Thanks, see-you, ciao, prosit |
| "Brilliant" |
Cool, great, wonderful, thanks |
| "Right" |
Okay. So. |
| Chips |
French fries |
| Cream tea |
Tea, jam, scone & creamy butter |
| Crisp |
Potato chip |
| Double Devon cream |
Standing spoon-thick cream |
| Philadelphia cheese |
Creamed cheese |
| Double six, treble zero |
Six-six-zero-zero-zero. This takes some getting used to. (Like French. 40-20-6 means 86.) |
| Dust bin |
Garbage pail |
| To be binned |
To be thrown out (trashed) |
| Skip |
Dumpster |
| Fanny (caution!) |
Cunt |
| Bum |
Fanny, rear end |
| Tramp |
Bum, hobo |
| Go along... |
Any distance from 10 yds to 10 miles |
| Have a word |
Talk to |
| Hob |
Rangetop (Stove) |
| Hottie |
Hot water bottle |
| In hospital |
In the hospital |
| "It won't be a moment" |
It will be a moment |
| Jam donut |
Jelly donut |
| Kettle |
An electric hot water maker. Boy, at 240 volts, they are FAST! |
| King-sized bed |
Queen-sized bed (i.e., 60 inches wide) Queen nomenclature not used in UK as bed size |
| California King, Ultra King |
King-sized bed (Rare in UK) |
| Kipper |
Smoked herring. Quite salty. Eat with scrambled eggs. |
| Kit |
Equipment |
| Lavatory, WC |
Bath room, men's (ladies) room |
| Loo |
Toilet |
| Lead |
Leash, power cord |
| Made redundant |
Let go, fired |
| Mains power |
AC (electrical) wall power |
| "May I stroke him" |
"May I pet him" |
| Minced meat |
Ground beef |
| Bangers |
Sausages |
| Mash |
Mashed potatoes |
| Mayonaise |
UK dishes containing it contain a LOT of it |
| NA |
Rare roast beef (Mad cow fears) |
| NA |
Mixed drinks. Nada outside of London |
| Naught, nil |
Zero (game scores) |
| On holiday |
On vacation |
| Paracetamol |
Acetaminophen (Tylenol) |
| Parma ham |
Prosciutto ham |
| Pitch |
(Playing) Field |
| Bramley |
A type of cooking apple |
| Victoria |
A type of plum |
| Pay-in slip |
Deposit slip |
| Pastie ("PAH-stee") |
Pot pie. Baked flour crust w meat filling |
| Nipple cover |
Pastie ("PAY-stee") |
| Page 3 girl |
Woman who poses topless in trashy newspapers |
| Poo |
Poop |
| Silencer (for rifle) |
(Use legal in UK. Highly illegal in the US) |
| Pistol (firearm) |
(Highly illegal in the UK. Legal in the US) |
| A slight |
An insult |
| Spanner |
Wrench |
| Common top speed 90-95mph |
Common top speed 70-80mph |
| M-4, A-4, A-444, B-4444 |
Decreasing road width. 4-digit B-roads often not 2 cars wide |
| To sort out |
To take care of, to figure out |
| Straight away |
Right now |
| Streaky bacon |
Bacon rashers. British bacon is saltier than US |
| Swede |
White turnip |
| Scrap yard |
Junk yard |
| Take away |
Take out (fast food), to go |
| Taxi rank |
Taxi line |
| "The fix is being put in" |
The item is being repaired |
| "The line's engaged" |
The line is busy (telephone) |
| To be mindful |
To watch out, pay attention to |
| Torch |
Flashlight |
| Vermin |
Rodents (varmints) |
| Wallet |
(File) Folder. (Also billfold) |
| Whole cream milk |
Whole milk |
| Treacle |
Super sweet pie filling |
| Garden |
Yard |
| En suite rooms |
Rooms w private bath attached |
| Fag |
Cigarette |
| Poof |
fag, faggot (homosexual) |
| Johnny |
Rubber (condom) |
| hospital gown |
Johnny |
| Rubber |
Eraser |
| Galoshes |
Rubbers |
| To nick |
To steal |
| To be nicked |
To be arrested |
| Cot |
Crib |
| Camping bed |
Cot |
| Icing sugar |
Confectionary sugar |
| "I'll knock you up at home" |
"I'll pick you up at home" (knock on your door) |
| Conservatory |
Sun porch |
| Cigarette ends |
cigarette butts |
| apologies |
regrets (to send) |
| sweets |
desert |
| a sweet |
a candy |
| to collect some one |
to pick up/get some one |
| dodgy |
iffy |
| hockey |
field hockey |
| ice hockey |
hockey |
| cello-tape |
"Scotch" tape |
| Turf |
Sod (the rolled up mat of grass and earth) |
| Fiona, Nigel |
Common British first names never used in the U.S. |
| pint= 20 0z. |
pint = 16 oz |
| Imperial gallon = 160 oz |
U.S. gallon= 128 oz or 20% less. |
| Anti-clockwise |
Counter-clockwise |
| flyposting |
billboarding (to plaster an area with posters) |
| rod beans |
pole beans |
| Industrial estate |
Industrial park |
| Estate agents |
Real estate agents |
| Whinge, whinger |
To whine, a whiner |
| "Full stop" |
"Period" (at end of sentence) or meaning "finally" as "We should fire him--full stop." |
| To collect someone |
To pick someone up |
| Lad, Lass, Lassie |
Boy, girl, famous TV dog |
| To have a domestic |
A marital spat |
| "A proper coat." |
A well-made coat suited for intended purpose |
| A socially correct coat |
"A proper coat." |
| A Yob |
A hooligan |
| "Give him some stick" |
"Let him have it" (Punish him) |
|
To put paid to
(Police) Line-up |
To close an issue Identity Parade (Honest!) |
The Redcoats are coming! British soldiers reenacting the battle of the North Bridge in Concord, MA of April 19, 1776. This fierce firefight marked the beginning of the American Revolutionary War. Click here to buy this
gorgeous high-resolution panorama in 16 X 24 size.
England: Second Impressions
So what is it like to live in England, after the newness and the glamour of it wears off, and after the smallness no longer seems to matter? ("There is glamour?" Many Brits will ask. "What glamour?") In a word, thrilling.
We live in the real countryside in a community where many people are business professionals. Cows and sheep graze 100 yards from our rented house. Yet some of our neighbors are sophisticated in every regard. One is a Hollywood financier (!), another owns a large dairy farm, a third designs stylish dresses, a fourth is a feisty 90-year old lady who lives for bridge, a fifth is a TV personality. Much more importantly, these people do not seem tainted by their city-pursuits (London is an hour by train). They are not cynical, they do not feel smugly superior to their country-bumpkin neighbors, and they are -- darn it -- just as nice as anyone we've ever met. There are other, much less lovely parts of Great Britain, so our situation is certainly not typical.
The niceness shows in every thing they do: How they don't rush from the back of the line, when a second teller opens up. They wait patiently if some one ahead of them is having trouble finding change. They will stop what they're doing to give directions, even if they, themselves, are in a hurry. And it goes beyond these surface acts. They are thoughtful about newcomers (we found) and go to great pains to make them feel welcome. But they are never intrusive (or effusive). Most importantly to me is how more frank they are, eschewing social white lies in favor of telling the bald truth politely but without equivocation to an embarrassing question. This frankness finds its way into the newspapers which, while under stricter libel laws, are still refreshingly not yet crippled by political correctness. It is still possible to identity some one as being Jewish (e.g., Gladstone) without that alone being considered anti-Semitic or (as in Germany, subject to being thrown in jail). Or that some one who has committed a crime is Jamaican, i. e. "colored." A rapacious businessman can be identified as felonious (if he has been convicted) and might even be called a thoroughly bad man. However, PC is making strong inroads.
And perhaps, being less insulated by technology, the English are closer to living the natural life. A dog lies obediently at his master's feet while the couple eats dinner in a pub. (We had dogs in the 750-year old church during a church fair!) People go for walks when it rains, they get their
woolens wet -- and they dry off. Although all firearm pistols are completely illegal, on the weekends, one regularly hears the pop of distant shotguns going for fowl.
Wherever on the planet the English set down, they plant gardens. The village houses are lined inside and out with flowers that bloom for nine months of the year. And in such glorious profusion. In the fall, bushes, shrubs, hedges, vines and trees burst with berries. I've never seen such a variety of berries--most of them bright red, along with plenty of grape-like sloe.
The British love to complain about their always mild weather. In the winter, it rains quite often. "Beastly weather" they'll mutter after greeting you on a walk. But it is only rainy and windy (very windy). The temperature rarely falls below freezing, and lately snow has become an endangered occurrence. In the summer the temperature is moderate AND THERE ARE NO MOSQUITOES. (We had more mosquitoes in Florence for a week in November than I've seen in all of England in a year.) (But In Scotland, there are pesky "smidges," like black flies.) Air conditioning is only necessary (but still rare) in London. (If you stay in a hotel in London in the summer, ask before you sign up if they have air conditioning: many don't and it can get hot!) The weather in England changes every bit as rapidly and unpredictably as in New England. People don't panic when a bit of drizzle hits; women don't run for cover to protect their hair, but just carry on. Get some decent rain gear and you'll be ready for anything. Make sure you get mud boots such as Wellies or LL Bean Hunting boots because in the country there is a lot of mud. Deep, sucking, sticking, clog your cleats-type mud. Walk with sharp-edged shoes or boots and you'll quickly pick up a pound or two of mud on each foot that is a bear to scrap off. The rounded sole of the Wellington boot (A rubber knee-high pull-on for £15) doesn't hold the mud and is easily hosed off.
Walking in the countryside is an ever-changing scene. Clouds may blacken the sky in one moment and sunlight burst through in shafts to illuminate a brilliant yellow patch of rape. Billowing cumulous clouds are forever hovering, and one sees very soon where the English landscape artists have obtained their inspiration. All-in all, as an outdoor person, there is one exciting vista after another, each endlessly modulating.
Have we fallen in love with England? Yes, of course. How can one not?
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Photo: View from The Ridgeway, Oxfordshire
