I had to go to the Houses of Parliament for a meeting today.  As you do.

I was early for my meeting, so I did a couple of things that a tourist probably wouldn’t.

Firstly, I went into St. Margaret’s Church.  Never heard of it?  Well, that’s probably because it stands right next door to Westminster Abbey.  So you’ve got the HUGE abbey saying “look at me!!!” and it’s really easy to miss  St. Margaret’s completely (even though it’s not small), but it’s worth going in.  Admission is free, although a donation would be welcome.  St. Margaret’s is commonly known as the “parish church of the House of Commons” and was originally built in the 11th century, so there’s history shouting out from every detail inside.

It was the church in which Samuel Pepys (the famous London diarist) and Winston Churchill married their brides and Beau Brummel was baptised.  But not all the interesting bits are about famous people.  I was most touched by a simple yet beautiful hand-engraved 17th century wooden and brass plaque dedicated by a loving father to his ten-year-old daughter who died, praising her good nature, dedication and piety and hoping she would be an example to others.

It also has beautiful stained glass windows, both old and new, and while I was there a simple prayer was said that made everyone stop for a moment and think of things more important than where to go for lunch, or whether it was still snowing outside.

Having visited St. Margaret’s, I went into the Houses of Parliament and headed for Central Lobby.  You may think that if you’re not a UK citizen, you can’t go in, but during August, September and October you can book a tour.

Central Lobby is a stunning area in a breathtakingly beautiful building, as you can see here.  Pugin certainly let his talent run wild and every detail of every floor, wall, pillar, arch and ceiling is extravagant, stunning and a piece of art in its own right. Incidentally, the people-watching there is first-class too; from famous politicians and celebrities to harassed-looking young clerks and tour guides in knee-breeches, all bustling through with purpose whilst I sat there at leisure.  I’ve rarely enjoyed a ten-minute wait so much anywhere in the world.

Charmingly, it also holds the venue for my second reason for being early.  A post office.

A post office?  Really?  Yes – because I couldn’t resist writing and posting a card to my daughter in a special souvenir envelope, with a drawing of the Houses of Parliament and luxuriously embossed with the portcullis logo in gold.  And I have to say, for the sake of £2.50 plus postage I highly recommend you do so, too.  As souvenirs go, it’s pretty cool and very, very few people realise that you can do this.  The lady at Central Lobby post office stamps it with the special “House of Commons” post mark and then they give you a clear plastic envelope so your lovely message doesn’t get marked whilst going through the postal system, but arrives in pristine condition.  Great fun.  I can’t wait to see my daughter’s face when it arrives and she sees where Mummy went!

So if you’re going to Westminster remember, whilst St. Paul’s Cathedral is a must, don’t forget St. Margaret’s is there too.  And YES you CAN go into the Houses of Parliament even if you’re not a UK citizen (in the summer).  Tickets go on sale this Monday, 1st March, so get online and get booked in for the experience of a lifetime.  And don’t forget your address book…

Inside the Houses of Parliament is a post from: Anglotopia.net

It’s below freezing here in Blighty now and according to the Met Office, we’re due for snow tonight and all over the weekend.  And here’s how my house will look again!

When I was a kid, I used to dream of snow.  My godfather was a carpenter and he lovingly made me the best sledge anyone ever had; big enough for three of us with metal runners for a super-fast descent.  He painted it bright red with a white lightning flash on the side and I loved it.  Trouble was, we barely had enough snow to scrape together a few snowballs on our way to school, let alone enough to use my beautiful scarlet sledge.  So there it stayed, hanging on the wall in the garage.

When we moved to our village twelve Christmases ago, our neighbours asked us with a worried expression, “Do you not have a four-wheel drive?”.  Oh, how we laughed.  As IF we’d ever get snowed in!  And I hung up my sledge on the garage wall and patted it gently, never expecting to be able to use it.

In February this year we got snowed in for eight days.  We’d stocked up on food, we all went skiing on the hill and gathered afterwards in the pub (very handily located at the bottom of said hill).  “So this is global warming?”, I thought to myself.  The schools were closed, the buses stopped and England ground to a halt.

Our village piste, conveniently ending at the pub

You see, we just aren’t any good at snow in England.  We’re pants at it, actually.

Anywhere in Europe, and anywhere in the US where you get snow regularly everything just carries on, albeit looking rather prettier than normal.

But because we usually only get a cosmetic dusting of snow each year, we just never bother to gear ourselves up for it.  We do a bit of extra grocery shopping, pull out the ski gear and get the logs ready by the hearth.  And I think that’s about it!

So here we are, wondering if this weekend will simply bring us large, pretty, fluttering snowflakes to make everywhere look all Dickensian as we meander through the village to our carol concert at the church on Sunday, or whether we should be expecting the worst and stockpiling rocksalt, shovels and…

…well what should one do, exactly?  You see, I am a complete amateur at this (as are most Brits).  Maybe I should be waxing the runners on my lovely sledge?  Buying chains for my car tyres (can one buy snow chains in England)?  Making hearty soups?

It feels VERY unBritish to not to simply “keep calm and carry on”!  That’s what we’re supposed to always do.  Effortlessly.  No fuss.  Just do it.

Do what, exactly? Could anyone from the Northern States who’s ‘good at snow’ give me a few tips here, please?

Ta awfully!

Anna x

From the Heart… of England: England in the Snow – England To Get a White Christmas is a post from: Anglotopia.net

[picappgallerysingle id="63022"]I probably shouldn’t write this on Jonathan’s own blog but, dear reader, I could not be more shocked at his behaviour in Britain.

How could he DO that?

Weren’t you feeling a little faint reading about it, too?

I really don’t know if I can write a column for this site anymore.  I’ve come over all unnecessary.

Yes.  He ate a flippin’ burger.  He ate pizza.  He bought a Mc-bloody-Donald’s!!!

Sigh.  Okay, you redeemed yourself (slightly) with the fish and chips and I know you’re a little…discriminating when it comes to tuck, Jonners old chap, but next time you visit the UK I really want YOU to let ME send an Ocado (grocery) order to your cottage, okay?  I want you to eat like a Brit.

So on your next visit, here’s a weekend menu for you…(if anything needs explaining to anyone, leave a comment and I’d be delighted to oblige).

Saturday:

Breakfast – Half a grapefruit, porridge, cup of assam tea with semi-skimmed milk.

Elevenses – Piece of tiffin and cup of milky coffee.

Lunch – find a pub and order a Stilton ploughman’s lunch with a pint of their best bitter (or scrumpy, if in Devon).  If, being the picky eater you are you feel convinced that the majestic Stilton cheese is not for you, then try a cheese and ham toastie with pickle (that’s Branston, not dill pickle).

Afternoon tea – Several cups of assam tea and a freshly baked Derby scone (or two) with raspberry preserve and clotted cream.

Supper – Steak & kidney pudding with runner beans, carrots and mashed potatoes (accompany this with a glass of stout), followed by rice pudding.

Sunday:

Breakfast – Orange juice, FEB (full English breakfast), toast and tangerine marmalade with a cup of Assam tea.

Elevenses – what, you really think you need anything but a coffee after that breakfast?!?!

Lunch – find a pub (newspapers and roaring log fire essential) and order a proper English roast lamb dinner followed by spotted dick and custard.  And order a different pint of beer today.

Afternoon tea – you’re kidding, right?  Did you not read lunch?  Have a cuppa.

Supper – Poached eggs on toasted, buttered, wholemeal English muffins.  Small slice of madeira cake.  Glass of port.

And if, after that little lot, you’re not feeling just a little more in tune with Blighty (and proud of yourself for downing so much ‘foreign’ food in two days) then “I’ll go to the foot of our stairs”  (Lisa will translate that one for you – it’s a Northern expression) and “I’ll be a monkey’s uncle” (ditto).

So there you have it.  Britain’s food, perhaps not entirely summed up in two days, but given a jolly good airing.

So what do you reckon, Jonners?  Up for a challenge next time?  Because the gauntlet is thrown…

From the Heart of… England: Tea time! is a post from: Anglotopia.net

[picappgallerysingle id="74425" align="center"]Hmmm…quite a lot, actually.

I’ve read loads of articles about ‘silly’ English place names such as Lower Piddle, Pratt’s Bottom, Doddiscombsleigh, Wigtwizzle and the like.  I love them, but then I was taught to love them by my wonderful father who used to make up long poems about the places we drove through on our journey to the seaside each summer.  A man who would willingly make a five-mile detour just so he could add the line “then through Broughton Poggs, where the men bite dogs” to his rhyme.  Silly, silly, lovely poet of a Daddy.

But many English Place names are incredibly logical;  a fact that seems to have passed most of my American friends by.  So I thought I’d give you a quick run-down of some of them…

Stratford-upon-Avon – okay, an easy one to start with.  The river Avon flows through Stratford and the town of Stratford grew around it (or ‘upon’ it).

Brentford – A ford is a crossing-place in a river, and so Brentford is a shallow crossing place in the river Brent.  There are lots of place names ending in ford.  Usually the first bit refers to the name of the river the ford crosses, but occasionally it can refer to other things, such as Oxford, which is thought to refer to a ford where oxen used to cross the river – “Oxenford”.

Yarmouth – A mouth is where a river flows into the sea, so Yarmouth is the town where the river Yar flows into the sea and many other coastal towns share this nomenclature, for example Exmouth, Cockermouth and Bournemouth.

Hebden Bridge – This one is pretty straightforward; a settlement which grew around a bridge built over the River Hebden where packhorses used to cross.  Edenbridge is so-named for the same reason.  However, Cambridge is a little trickier!   The river Cam does indeed flow through Cambridge (and yes, there is a bridge).  But the river used to be called the Granta, so they actually renamed the river after the town this time!

Swindon – Anywhere called “something-don” will be on a hill, as the word “dun” in Anglo Saxon meant hill.  Swindon (pronounced Swindun) was Swines Hill, where pigs were kept.  Huntingdon was “Hunter’s Hill”.

Hunstanton – Places ending in “ton” or “by” were probably farms that grew over time into villages.  Hunstanton is Hunstan’s farm.  Colby was Koli’s farm.  There are a THOUSANDS of these!

Ousden – “den” was a valley, and Ousden was “Owl’s valley”.

There are so many origins of English words, that there is no straightforward guide, really, but I’ve tried to list a few that are common to help you see why English place names are…how they are.  So hopefully when you take a vacation in, say, Devon and you stay in Lynton or Lynmouth you’ll easily remember that Lynton is the village at the top of the hill and Lynmouth is the one down the hill where the river Lyn flows into the sea.  Easy-peasy.

And Broughton Poggs?  Originally Brocturn Pogeys, an “enclosure by the stream” belonging to the Pogeys family.

Just don’t ask me about Pratt’s Bottom, eh?

From the Heart… of England: What’s in a name? is a post from: Anglotopia.net

[picappgallerysingle id="168049"]I have often travelled on work trips to the States and been asked how long I am staying.  Before I knew better, I used to answer “a fortnight”, which met with rather blank looks Stateside.  So let me explain a few of our quirkier notions of time in Blighty…

• A ‘fortnight’ is two weeks.  It’s short for a ‘fourteen-night’ and, believe it or not, we used to call a week a ‘sennight’ for the same reason (seven-night).  ‘Sennight’ died a death centuries ago, but ‘fortnight’ is still very common indeed.
• We write (and say) dates differently.  Today, according to Brits, is 20/11/2009 (the twentieth of November two thousand and nine).  In America it’s 11/20/2009 (November twenty, two thousand nine).  You see, you are “middle endian” and we are “little endian” (although I believe the International standard for dates is “big endian” – yyyy/mm/dd so we’re both equally wrong there!).
• When asking the time in the UK, it’s normal to hear slang or shortened versions.  So if the time is half past six (which for some of you in the US is a “half after six”) you may be told it’s “half six”, or simply “half past”, as we tend to assume you at least know what hour it is!  And if you are in the South it will sound like “Arf parst” and if you are up North it will sound like “Aff Passt”.
• In the UK you’ll never hear that it’s “a quarter ’til four” or “five after nine”.  If it’s before the hour it’s always “to” and if it’s after the hour it’s always “past”.  And in the UK, phrases such as “top of the hour” or “bottom of the hour” are regarded as intensely cheesy and may elicit giggles!  Although we do use more modern expressions such as “four thirty-five”.
• Similarly, you’ll never hear us talk about a “half hour”.  It’s always “half an hour”.
• You arrange to have fun “on the weekend”, but we do stuff “at the weekend” or “over the weekend”.
• When arranging dates we may refer to “Thursday last” or “Thursday just gone” (last Thursday) or “a week Tuesday”  (a week from next Tuesday).
• You’ll also hear “in a mo” (momentarily), “half a sec” (please wait a moment), “for a bit” (for a little while), “for yonks” (for a long while) and “TTFN” (short for Ta Ta For Now which means “see you soon”).
• Confusingly, “laters” (which often sounds like “Lay Uz”) doesn’t necessarily mean you will see the person later; it often means “see you around”.

And just as a foot-note;  see the big clock in the piccie above?  We all call it Big Ben.  Even though we all know it’s not actually called Big Ben (that’s the name of the bell inside that tolls the hour).  The name of the clock itself is The Great Clock on the Clock Tower of the Houses of Parliament.  Catchy name, huh?

Yep.  now you see why we call it Big Ben.  Can’t be bothered with all that malarkey.  Haven’t got time!

From the Heart… of England: Time for an English lesson is a post from: Anglotopia.net

I am unfortunately aware that we have successfully exported chef Gordon Ramsay to you.  My sincere apologies.

Obviously, the man can cook (and play football) – I wouldn’t want to imply that he can’t.  in fact I truly admire his culinary skill.  But as an ambassador for the English language, he’s not really the best, is he?

It is a somewhat depressing fact of life that language on the streets of this fair isle is deteriorating most alarmingly.  And the “f” word is not the worst one I’ve come across whilst shopping in town with my impressionable toddler daughter (who can now repeat any word after just one hearing).

And yet, when I think about it, I only hear this language on the streets or on TV.  My friends, family and work colleagues are all much more ‘traditional English’ swearers.  So I thought it’s about time we re-introduced the art of using charmingly ‘inoffensive’ expletives to the streets of Blighty; maybe you’d like to join us?

So …

1. If something goes wrong and you need a handy profanity, try “oh blast it!”, “fiddlesticks”, or “bloody hell” instead of the predictable.
2. Mild vexation could call for “oh botheration”,  “bloomin’ heck”, “bottoms”, “pants” or “chuffing heck!”.
3. Stupid or annoying people become ‘nitwits’ or ‘nincompoops’ instead of a**holes.
4. If someone says something that’s bulls**t, then why not try the quaint English terms “codswallop” or “cobblers” instead?
5. If you are drunk, you are “tipsy”, “sloshed”, have had “one over the eight”, are “chateau’d” or “tired and emotional”.
6. If you screw something up, you have made a ‘hash’ of it, or a “right pig’s ear”.
7. If surprised, instead of “Jesus!”, try “Bloody Nora”, “Cor blimey” or “well, blow me” (yep, we really do say this, but you’ll be reassured to know it’s a short form of ‘blow me down’, similar to ‘you could knock me down with a feather’).
8. If you are pi**ed, you are “narked” and if you choose to verbally vent your spleen, you are said to be “throwing a wobbly”.
9. If the sh*t is about to hit the fan and you are tempted to say you are f***ed, then try a posh English accent with the words “gosh, we’re in a bit of a tight spot here” or a Scottish accent and “we’re doomed…dooooomed, I tell ye”.
10. And if words fail you and you are tempted to flick ‘the finger’, why not try the English version and use two fingers (like a “V” for victory, but with your palm towards yourself).  Preferably, this should be accompanied by the smug comment “Agincourt!” as you raise the fingers in the air.

So if Gordon Ramsay has left you believing there is only one profanity in the English language, take heart; even Shakespeare would be proud of our rich and varied selection of expletives.

Ten tips to swear like a Brit is a post from: Anglotopia.net

Most Americans know perfectly well that on 5th November each year we Brits all go slightly barking mad and become pyromaniacs for the night, gathering around bonfires with an effigy atop and letting off enough fireworks to keep the villagers awake until midnight.  But just in case you’re not sure why we do it, here’s the potted version…

“Remember, remember, the fifth of November

For gunpowder, treason and plot!

There is surely no reason that gunpowder treason

Should e’er be forgot.”

This is the rhyme we all learned at school, to remind us that our Parliament (and everyone in it including the king) was nearly blown sky-high by Robert Catesby and his allies (including Guy Fawkes) on 5th November 1605, but thankfully the “gunpowder plot” was foiled, the king’s life saved and parliament continued as normal.

So why was there a plot to blow up parliament?  Well, as with so many battles, it was mostly a question of religion.  England used to be a Catholic country, until King Henry VIII decided to change the rules so he could carry on divorcing wives when he felt like it and appointed himself the head of the Church of England (a Protestant faith).  His son, Edward VI was Protestant, then Mary I was Catholic, Elizabeth I was Protestant and so was James I.

As the people were expected to follow the same religion as the monarch, you can see by now everyone was getting pretty confused and frustrated; “am I allowed to attend Mass and cross myself, or will I get thrown in the Tower for doing so?”.  And many people (including Robert Catesby) wanted a return to the Catholic faith.  hence the “gunpowder plot”  was hatched to kill King James I, princes Henry and Charles and parliament all in one go.  You have to admit, it was a jolly bold plan.

But what most people don’t realise is that the gunpowder plot was just the first part of a spectacular plan to overthrow the King, the Government and bring in an entirely new regime, one that was all worked out and ready to go.  It involved many aristocrats, thousands of soldiers and would have meant a new monarch (who would have been Queen Elizabeth II, had the plot worked).

Robert Catesby recruited many noblemen to his cause, as well as many men to carry out the plot, including (you’ve guessed it)…Guido Fawkes.  Fawkes is the main name associated with the plot, as he was responsible for buying and secretly stowing 36 barrels of gunpowder in a cellar underneath the great chamber of Parliament.

At 2am on 5th November 1605, Guy Fawkes entered the cellar to light the fuse.  But someone had warned the King and he was caught and taken to the Tower, later to be hung, drawn and quartered along with his co-conspirators…

So, each year we use old tights (pantyhose), old clothes and a hat to make a “Guy”, who is often paraded around a bit before being put on the bonfire and set alight.  After watching his fate, we celebrate by letting off fireworks, drinking mulled wine and feasting on pig-roast (although these days it’s often burgers and hot dogs!).

It’s a spectacular sight, a wonderful atmosphere and as most people attend organised events these days, it’s pretty safe, too.

So remember, remember the fifth of November…or at least drink a glass of mulled wine for us next year!  I know many of you are quite fond of our Royal Family; but it could have been SO different.

From the Heart… of England: Remember, remember is a post from: Anglotopia.net

To tip or not to tip?  That is the question.

Oh, and how much?  How do I do it ‘gracefully’?  Can it cause offence?

And these questions are just the tip of the iceberg.  So, let me tip you a wink on the subject and then when you’re next in Blighty you won’t tip the applecart.

Okay, don’t worry, I’m finished with the excruciatingly predictable jests now and the rest of the post will be in English.  Ahem.

1.  No-one will be offended if you tip them.  There are a LOT of people in the tourist industry coping on truly awful salaries and I can’t think of anyone who would be offended by you tipping them if done discreetly and in a non-patronising manner.  There are a very select few resorts who say in their literature that “tipping is unnecessary”, but you will be aware of this in advance.  Occasionally you may be served by people who are extremely well paid and do not require a tip, but if you try to tip these chaps, they will politely and gracefully decline (and even so, they will not have been offended by your gratuity).  I was once staying in a very nice London hotel and held a door open for someone…who tipped me!  I simply smiled, thanked them and put it in the nearest charity box.

2. In the UK, we don’t tip anyone if the service was bad (although my husband has been known to tip a penny as a wordless insult for truly awful service).  If the service was really the best you’ve ever had, I tip and then also email head office to tell them they have great staff.  If it was the worst I’ve ever had, I email about that too!  I like to think that’s firm but fair.

3. In cabs; the usual way to tip is to round up the fare.  So if your journey costs £8.40, just give him £10.  If you’re on business and you need a receipt, say “Can we call that a tenner and can I have a receipt please?”.

4.  For food; in restaurants, look at your bill (check).  If no service charge is shown and your service was good, tip 10-15%.  If you are in any doubt as to where the money might go (some owners bank the money if you pay by card) then give your tip in cash directly to your waiter.  If eating in a cafe or pub, it is perfectly acceptable to pay your bill, receive your change and then leave coins on the table by your plate when you leave.  Tips are not usually left in coffee shops unless the service was very good, and most coffee shops have a dish by the till for this.  Tips are not given in fast-food or takeaway places.

5.  In hotels, we generally do not tip the doorman (if he simply opens the door), the staff at reception or the waiting staff at breakfast-time.  I make a point of not tipping porters (bellboys) who insist on carrying my tiny bag to my room when I have already said I am fine carrying my own, but do tip if they have helped me with particularly awkward bags, or if a bellboy has gone back down to the car for me when I have forgotten something.  Tipping concierges can be tricky, as the best ones are sometimes very old-fashioned, wonderful gentlemen who take enormous pride in making your stay productive and enjoyable.  If your concierge has been truly outstanding (and may I say the concierge at the Royal Crescent Hotel in Bath is possibly the most wonderful concierge I have ever been pointed in the right direction by), the best advice I can give is to tip them discreetly, perhaps by writing them a notelet expressing your heartfelt thanks for their kind advice and enclosing any amount you feel is appropriate to ‘treat’ themselves with.  Tipping chambermaids is another tricky one.  Personally, I am an unbelievably clean and tidy person; I don’t tip them.  If I made a lot of work for a chambermaid I would certainly tip an appropriate amount for the trouble I have put them to.

6.  In pubs; tipping is not often done at the bar, but if you are ordering complicated drinks or large rounds, then it is customary to say at the end of your order “and have one for yourself”.  Although your server is not allowed to actually drink during working hours, they will take around £2 to £3 as a tip.  That’s just how it’s always been done in pubs!

7.  Hairdressers; yet another tricky one.  Obviously if you’re going to see Nicky Clarke or another celebrity hairdresser type, they may be offended by you proffering a crumpled fiver.  Most hairdressers would be perfectly happy.  Personally I don’t tip my hairdresser (as he owns the business, so I consider him above it), but if the junior who washes my hair gives me a great scalp massage I leave them a pound or two.  Beauty therapy is another badly-paid profession, so tips would be gratefully accepted here.

8.  For other people you may meet, such as tour guides, shoe-shines, street entertainers etc. I would say follow your instinct; how great an impact has this person made on your stay?  If they have simply done their job and no more, personally I wouldn’t tip.  If they have gone over and above the call of duty to make your visit truly memorable and enjoyable, then tip accordingly.

9.  Remember; a heartfelt thank you, dazzling smile and firm handshake on parting is a great tip in itself for someone who is proud of what they do.  A handwritten note, or follow-up email shows thoughtfulness.  A tip is nice, too, but without the smile it can come across as arrogant, patronising, snooty or crass.

10.  Don’t worry about tipping all the time; in Britain we simply don’t.  People who receive tips are flattered by them and for the lowly-paid it is a tremendous help to make ends meet.  But if you don’t tip they won’t put your name on some British hotel blacklist or broadcast the fact on Twitter!  Enjoy your holiday.  Enjoy meeting people.  Enjoy being pampered.  Enjoy Britian.

The Anglotopia Guide to Tipping in Britain and London: Ten Top Brit tipping tips… is a post from: Anglotopia.net

Here we are, with British Sausage Week almost upon us (2^nd to 8^th November 2009).  It’s cunningly scheduled to coincide with Guy Fawkes Night, which is a traditional time to eat sausages (for supper on Bonfire Night, British mums often stack several sausages around a pile of mashed potato and pour baked beans on top, to give a bonfire-like effect.  My mum always did, anyway!).

So why ‘bangers’?  In the second World War, some ingredients were hard to come by and this led to sausages being made to a slightly different recipe.  The resulting increase in water content meant more steam as they were cooked and…BANG!!  Unfortunately, wartime sausages had a habit of exploding (as if the poor British public didn’t have enough explosions to cope with, what with the Blitz and so forth) and hence the nickname bangers was coined.  And stuck!

Staggeringly, 97% of British sausages are consumed in the home (we eat £560 million of sausages each year).  Which means this is one area of True Britishness that you could easily miss!  Trust me, that would be a shame.  And a real oversight, so do add this to your holiday planning list.

Hmmmm… I’m thinking that suggestion didn’t meet with an over-enthusiastic response?

Okay.  Firstly, you need to forget ALL about sausage links, franks, wieners etc.  Let’s start with a clean slate and an open mind; the British banger is a different beast entirely.  Then, ignore the processed sausages that hotels may try to serve you for breakfast.  If they are just “sausages” and don’t have a name, don’t eat ‘em!

What you really need is a gastro-pub to offer you “traditional Cumberland sausages with mashed potatoes, peas and onion gravy”, which has to be the most English way to eat them.  And it’s my favourite way!  Some places may offer you flavoured varieties, such as pork & stilton or pork & apple. Others may tempt you to non-pork types, such as venison sausages (which casserole beautifully with a rich sauce) or even lamb & mint.  Or you’ll spot a menu with “toad in the hole” (sausages baked in a tray of starchy batter which goes fluffy and voluptuous; excellent served with gravy and green beans), which is certainly traditional, although possibly an acquired taste.

But steady on here, old chap.  If you’ve never had a British banger before, let’s start simply.  Try bangers and mash.

The idea of sausages being celebrated may strike you as being a tad strange, particularly if all you’ve had before are American sausage links.  But there is a reason why the British Sausage Appreciation Society boasts thousands of members.

If you’re a New Yorker, why not pop down to Myers of Keswick (where real British sausages are available) right now, try bangers and mash for supper and judge for yourself?

And when you’ve tried our noble banger, you’ll understand why it’s so dear to our hearts that the word ‘sausage’ is even used as a term of endearment in the UK (yes, honestly!).

That’s all for now, sausage.  Back next week.

From the heart… of England: In praise of the humble British Banger is a post from: Anglotopia.net

Photo from Flickr by World of Good

Okay, this post is for all of you chaps who have ever fancied being a quintessential English gentleman for the day.

BUT IT IS SECRET.  This stuff is normally only known by true bonafide Brits (like me) and I shouldn’t really be divulging such secrets but… ho hum, I thought Jonathan might like to try being a proper English gentleman during his stay in London in November.

Now obviously a proper gent would stay at his club, but being a visitor, you’ll have to make do with The Savoy, The Grosvenor, Claridge’s or at a pinch, The Waldorf.  Please remember to bring a tie, else you won’t be allowed in the dining room; I saw someone refused entry once and it wasn’t pretty.

So, after a good night’s sleep and a sumptuous breakfast – remember a true old-fashioned gent would partake of porridge (with cream and salt, no sugar!) followed by kippers or kedgeree with a round of toast and marmalade to finish, preferably served with a pot of robust Assam tea – saunter down to Geo. F. Trumper’s at 20, Jermyn Street and have a shave (£30).  Yes, a traditional shave by a traditional barber; cutthroat razor, leather strop – hope you didn’t see Johnny Depp as Sweeney Todd…

And if one of the older chaps shaves you, he’ll be able to tell you all about life in bowler-hat London, when gentlemen used to call in for a shave on the way to their club for breakfast and women were never seen over the threshold at a barber’s (that would have been ‘most irregular!’).  You will emerge 40 minutes later having been wrapped in hot towels, lathered, shaved, massaged and moisturised looking and feeling better than you have ever done in your entire life.

By now you will not be walking, you will be floating.  So, float out of the door, turn right to the Daks store (at 101 Jermyn Street) and buy a new outfit, suitable for the new “English gent” you.  After all, if it’s good enough for H.R.H. The Duke of Edinburgh and H.R.H. The Prince of Wales, it’s good enough for the rest of us.  But remember, those brown corduroy trousers and dapper sports jacket must only be worn in the country, not in London (except on Fridays).  And if you’re a gentleman of a certain age, do buy a cravat.  Sorry, I just have a thing for men in cravats; can’t help it.  But they DO look divine.  Think Cary Grant (and yes, Archibald Leach was a Brit); oh dear, I’ve come over all unnecessary thinking about Cary Grant in a cravat now.  Anyway, where was I?  Oh yes.

Now scoot back around the corner to Piccadilly and go and find the missus.  She will probably have taken advantage of your back being turned and headed for Fortnum and Mason.  So pop along there and once she’s finished swooning over you and kissing your baby-soft skin you can plan what to do next.

Why not go to a lunchtime recital at St. James’ church on Piccadilly?  There are concerts most Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays and at £3 you could do with some good-value entertainment as you’ve had an expensive day so far (and that’s not even including what may have been spent at F&M)!

That should work up an appetite, so head back to Piccadilly circus and eat lunch at one of the best kept secrets ever (I can’t believe I’m telling you about this one); The Criterion Restaurant.  There it is, right by the Criterion theatre, with a revolving door.  How did you not notice it before?  What?  It’s closed? NO IT ISN’T!  They just make it look all dark when you peek in, so if you’re a tourist you’ll go away.  Walk in boldly and when you’re seated at your table, beware of neck ache (the ceiling is just…SO gold!).  When you’re there, eating in such sumptuous surroundings you can’t stop the words “British Empire” popping into your head.  The old-fashioned English gent would, of course, choose the mutton chop with mashed potatoes, but the organic salmon with samphire might be the more modern gent’s choice.  From £18 for two courses.  On the other hand, if you did have the kedgeree for breakfast, maybe just grab a quick sarnie (sandwich) from Pret.

After lunch, back down to the other end of Piccadilly again for a stroll in Green Park and, if weather permits, a perusal of The Times whilst nodding off in a deckchair.

On the way back to one’s club/hotel, amble up the Burlington Arcade for a new pair of leather-soled slippers and a Yard-O-Led pen (how could you be a proper gent without these British essentials?), then pop next door to the Royal Academy of Arts and soak up some culture.  Whilst there, you could book a table for dinner (with live Jazz music on Fridays) before sauntering back to your abode.

Good heavens.  That’s a whole day gone and we didn’t even have any time for visiting the markets, Piccadilly or Prince’s arcades, taking afternoon tea the The Ritz or antique shop browsing on Sackville Street!  Maybe we’ll have another Piccadilly post one day for the ladies…

How do I know all this secret stuff?  Well, my club IS on Piccadilly; let me know when you’re visiting, maybe I’ll buzz you in.

From the Heart… of England: Shhhhhhh! TOP SECRET How to become a London Gent is a post from: Anglotopia.net

Before I can begin my journey in helping you to discover, understand and embrace true Englishness, I felt I should apologise for some of the things that we are, frankly, rubbish at.

I don’t mean baseball, although I am sure you will assume that anyway. I mean the things that may shock you when you visit Blighty for not being as you expected.

Lack of smiling – It’s not that we’re not happy campers, it’s just we’re embarrassed about our imperfect dentistry. Whilst one might imagine that character actors in films such as “Pirates of the Caribbean” are not representative of the UK population, you’d be wrong. Although many young people now have a dazzlingly white and even smile, anyone over 25 is probably still sporting a slightly off-white, slightly crooked smile (myself included) as a result of parents in the 1950′s – 1980′s mistakenly putting their faith in NHS dentistry. Modern parents (myself included again) do not let their children anywhere near NHS dentists, for fear of the same mistake occurring. This is not meant as a slur on the NHS; far from it. The good people in the NHS are too busy saving lives and making patients nice cups of tea to spend time mucking about making braces (retainers) for our children, that’s all.

Public transport – Most trains and buses are usually quite good, turn up more-or-less on time and are reasonably comfortable. However, if you’ve ever been to Germany or Austria, you’ll realise that by comparison our transport system is shabby. Theirs is faster, cleaner, greener, comfier and newer than ours. On the other hand, their ferocious punctuality has resulted in me missing a bus for the sake of 30 seconds and I like to think that in the UK, that bus would either have been running a minute late or the nice driver would have held the doors for me if I’d smiled at him. So apologies if our transport system lets you down, but on the other hand, there is something rather like a comfy pair of old brogues about it; it may be down at heel, but still my favourite.

Unpronounceable names – I’ve suffered many an American friend or colleague going on about this one. I admit it, we do make things unnecessarily difficult sometimes and I do feel the need to apologise. It’s just that our names for things are so old that the pronunciation has changed over the centuries (or even millennia) and we haven’t updated the spelling to reflect that. So Warwick is pronounced “Worrick”, Leicester Square is “Lester Square”, Magdalen Bridge is “Maudlen Bridge” and Greenwich is “Grennitch” (although some friends who live there tell me that Greenwich-dwellers even call it “Grinnitch!). But please don’t be too harsh on us; I give you Arkansas and Poughkeepsie. Thank you.

Being too politically correct – As yet, we haven’t overdone this one, but beware, for we are on the cusp. Reports of Manchester being renamed Personchester are entirely without basis in fact. But this week it was reported that Flintshire county council in North Wales have renamed an item on their canteen menu to avoid causing distress or embarrassment to their staff, who apparently had suffered a number of “immature comments”. The item in question is Spotted Dick, a centuries-old recipe of a steamed fruited sponge pudding loved by millions and devoured with a good dollop of custard by anyone in need of a little nostalgic comfort food. They have renamed it “Spotted Richard” to avoid the problem, although I would imagine that this move has provoked many more comments to the staff!

Coffee – Okay, let’s just get this one over with. We can’t make coffee and you can’t make tea. There. I’ve said it. So you have a choice when you visit; either get to know and love tea (ordinary English Breakfast tea with milk) or just make up your mind to drink the appalling coffee and get on with it. Now there’s no use running to the nearest Starbucks (although there’s bound to be one within a hundred yards, wherever you are) because in the UK the coffee is just as bad there too. Maybe it’s the water, maybe we get sold the second-rate beans and you chaps get the good stuff, I don’t know, I just know that’s how it is. Sorry.

Salad – In a minute I’m going to stop having a go at British food and beverages, but I feel I should point out that the salads you take for granted in the good old US of A are not standard in the UK (or indeed, France). You will find great salads, but only in places that are so proud of them, they give them a descriptive name. If a menu offers you “ham salad”, don’t touch it. It will consist of two slices of (processed) ham, one sliced tomato that has been in the fridge for two days too long, chopped still-wet iceberg lettuce and possibly a couple of slices of cucumber so thin you could read a newspaper through it.

On the other hand, if you are in a gastro-pub and choose something with a decently descriptive name, such as the “Hand-carved Wiltshire Ham Ploughman’s”, you’re likely to be presented with two generous slabs of mouth-watering traditional Wiltshire ham, at least four kinds of leaves in an imaginative salad with some fresh-baked crusty bread and butter.

There ARE plenty of good eateries in the UK. Just look for the ones who are proud of what they do. If in doubt, ask them a straightforward question (“excuse me, is there any romaine in the salad?”) and if they can’t answer you, don’t eat there.

Glasses of water – Again, when you go out to eat in the US, you will probably be greeted, seated and presented with glasses of iced water whilst you peruse the menu. In the UK you will have to ask for water and, occasionally, a waiter will try to take advantage of you because you’re a tourist by serving you with Ty Nant (or similarly expensive mineral water) when that’s not what you wanted.

So take control here. If you’d like mineral water (and Ty Nant is indeed very nice), then ask for it. But if you simply want water, ask for a glass or a jug of ‘tap water with ice’ (in other words, a pitcher of water straight from the faucet with ice thrown in). Then at least you get (and pay for) what you ordered.

Chavs – In the US, you call them trailer trash. In the UK the demographic is slightly different and it’s often not possible to categorise someone based upon their dwelling. However, Chavs are easily spotted wherever they may be; they’re the ones wearing a Burberry baseball cap with jeans that are too loose and hanging down so low you can see their underpants (guys) or too tight and too low cut allowing eight pounds of excess tummy fat to pillow out (girls) in what we in Britain have come to call the “muffin top”. They have been drinking and are talking loudly to each other using more swear words than Gordon Ramsay. They have the latest cell phones, designer clothes (although they will be from a discount store) and will consume more alcohol in an evening than I do in a month, yet they will tell you they “aint got no money” and “aint got no job, eeva”. Although they wouldn’t like having a job, as they may have to get up in the morning and use a brain cell or two.

I apologise for the Chavs. We don’t like them either, but they won’t go away. Sorry.

Just don’t ask one for directions, as they’re no good at geography.

Gordon Brown – Well someone has to apologise for him. When George “Dubya” was president of the USA, Americans used to apologise to me all the time and add, “I didn’t vote for him, y’know”. I thought it was a shame that anyone felt it necessary to apologise for their President, but now I know exactly how they felt! And not only did I not vote for Gordon Brown, but in fact, NONE of us did! He sneaked in after Tony Blair left (although I didn’t vote for him either) and has sat on his backside at number 10 ever since without calling an election! Bloomin’ cheek.

Being Modern – I realise that a lot of Americans want us to be all tweed jackets and “this way, Guvnor”, in the same way that English people want Americans to be all apple-pie and pigtails and gingham curtains at the kitchen window.

The truth of the matter is that we have watched “Little House on the Prairie” too much and you have watched “Mary Poppins” and it’s given us both unrealistic expectations, I’m afraid.

So what can you expect from modern Britain (apart from wireless broadband everywhere you go)?

Well, you will find great cell-phone coverage and internet cafes, much more modern comfortable accommodation, more catering for vegetarians and those on restricted diets and a huge amount of confidence, style and pride in being British (left over from the Cool Britannia revolution of the 1990′s).

In our city centres and little towns alike you’ll find that over the last decade or so we have emerged from the “okay is good enough” culture that blanketed us for so long and you’ll find eateries, pubs, cafes and shops with real style and attitude. Although finding good staff can be difficult, there are a lot of talented entrepreneurs who work hard to create imaginative businesses that truly stand out and will attract you to them, whether they’re a farm that’s opened a great organic shop and restaurant, a gift shop that specialises in quirky 1950′s-style design, a café that bursts with enthusiasm for fresh, seasonal British produce or a museum that captures not just your interest, but your emotions and your heart, too.

So you may not experience the nostalgia trip you were looking for; no men in bowler hats, no old lady selling bread to “feed the birds, tuppence a bag”, but the modern Britain is still very British indeed!

And if it’s truly old-fashioned Britain you hanker after, get out of London and as far away as you can. Just remember that old-fashioned can look a bit…well, shabby when you actually get it.

I’m sure there’s lots more I should be apologising for, however that’s all I can think of right now. If I’ve missed something, I’m sorry and I hope you’ll let me know about it.

But although we’re rubbish at some things, we really are quite brilliant at other things…and I’ll tell you about those another time.

From the Heart… of England: A Very British Letter of Apology is a post from: Anglotopia.net

1. Don’t worry too much about the weather!

Yes, I know, we Brits are obsessed with the weather. We really do talk about it all the time. However, it’s actually a case of politeness, rather than a deep fascination with Meteorology.

The fact of the matter is, that we have a very temperate climate and therefore nothing much to actually talk about. We just seem to be perpetually amused by the slight variations we do get. For example, a few days ago the weather went a bit chilly and I dressed my daughter in woolly tights and a corduroy pinafore dress with a cardi on top. Today, there she is, playing barefoot outside in a sundress with a floppy hat. And everyone is talking about the Indian Summer we’re enjoying. But it’s hardly hold-the-front-page stuff, is it?

For Jonathan’s trip, he needs to know that November is generally somewhere in the 50′s. Usually the October winds have completely subsided and a typical November starts wet and mild and gets colder, frostier and sunnier towards the end.

So forget the weather. Winter may get chilly, but it won’t be too cold. Summer may get hot, but you won’t cook. If it rains there are coffee shops, museums, galleries and cafes galore. Go in one and have a great time. If it’s sunny, walk the tiny old back streets, visit the beautiful green London squares, skate on a rink in the park or go on the London Eye at dusk and have your breath taken away.

2. Start a conversation with a stranger

It’s the only way to uncover true Britishness; talk to ‘real’ people. Obviously pick someone who looks like they’re happy to chat and preferably doesn’t have two heads. A black-cab driver is usually a good bet, as many of them will wax lyrical about good old Blighty (and tell you a great secret place to go for lunch). Otherwise, go wait for a bus and chat to the nice middle-aged lady doing her knitting. She’ll be glad to talk. And of course a great conversation opener is always the weather (see point 1….).

Incidentally, when you chat to people, don’t always ask “touristy’ questions, else you may get the standard answers we give to tourists (yes, I think the sun will come out later on, oh yes Green Park is pretty at this time of year, blah blah). If you’ve read a local newspaper or listened to the radio and picked up on what’s happening in the area you could ask them their views about their village school being closed, or the beautiful new fountain in the square. They’ll be impressed and charmed.

3. Resist the urge to write a list before you come and stick to it!

Okay, by all means write a list. But do you need to stick to it? Will this really be your only trip to Britain, ever? It would be such a shame to only do the things you already knew about before you crossed the Pond. What about uncovering Real Englishness, of the kind you only dreamed about? That would be hard to prepare beforehand.

Now I love the London Eye, I adore the Tower, Buckingham Palace and all the rest, I really do. But it’s no fun to do them all in one weekend; that’s just hard work.

I came to NYC five times before I went up the Empire State building. And I loved the view when I finally saw it. But on the previous four trips other fun things just cropped up. Once I sat in Central Park talking to a lady with her six-month-old granddaughter about living in New York and we lost track of time. Another time I walked through the neighbourhoods and discovered some great little arty shops that I hadn’t been expecting and then stumbled across the legendary Magnolia Bakery by accident, bought some lunch (and a cup-cake, of course) and sat in a small park whilst I ate it and watched kids doing some amazing skateboarding.

So if you have a to-do list, that’s great, but if you don’t do all the things on the list, isn’t that actually better?

4. When in Rome…

Globalisation can be a real experience-killer. Because when you come to the UK you may be disappointed to see McDonalds, Gap, Starbucks, Body Shop and all the things you get at home. But although our malls may look a lot like your malls, what are you doing in a mall anyway? You’re on holiday! Get OUT of there! Shame on you.

So if you find yourself on a ‘globalised’ High Street and you need lunch, turn off the high street, preferably following some be-suited office workers and follow them to a secret arcade or deli on a backstreet and try eating there instead. When I worked in London every morning I used to buy marmite on toast and a cuppa from a tiny little deli on Goodge Street, just before I got to my office. The owner, John, was an absolute character, always ready for a chat and I would LOVE you to meet people like that.

5. Eat British

Okay, I’m certainly not saying you shouldn’t go to an Italian restaurant if you feel like it and we do boast some of the best Indian restaurants in the world, but if you want to try British cuisine, try finding the real thing. And that means avoiding restaurants in Leicester Square with plastic seats and pictures on the menus. They are probably serving the same food that the same kind of restaurant would serve in Times Square or even Red Square!

So if you want to try real British food, why not make a night of it? Head out to Notting Hill or Primrose Hill, find a gastro-pub (a pub specialising in food rather than beer) and order Shepherd’s Pie, or bangers and mash with peas and onion gravy. Followed by summer pudding or blackberry and apple crumble with custard. Now there’s England (literally) on a plate.

I’m asking you to throw caution to the wind. Eat roast lamb (Welsh lamb is heavenly). Ask for bread sauce on your roast chicken. Clotted cream on your scones. Try your warm quiche salad with “salad cream” instead of dressing. Put salt and vinegar on your chips (fries) and if you’re feeling really daring, plop them onto a slice of buttered bread, roll it up and have a chip-butty.

When I go to the States I’ll do anything to avoid McDonalds. So I find a really nice neighbourhood, pick a mid-range restaurant or family diner and ask them what they do best. Okay, it’s pot-luck. But I’ve had great meatloaf and divine chicken with mashed potatoes and corn. I’ve been served Shoofly pie without even knowing what it is. But I feel like I’ve had a real American meal, not burger and fries from McDonalds. I feel like it was cooked by someone’s Mum (because it was). And the service has always been warm, friendly and chatty. Which brings me onto point 6….

6. Don’t expect great service

I am really sorry about this one. Great service is something you can expect in the US. Whether I’ve been in L.A. or deepest Alabama, I’ve always experienced friendly service with a smile. This is not always the case in the UK.

Firstly, in the UK tourist industry, you’re not likely to meet many Brits, as most people working in hotels and tourism are young people from Europe getting some experience whilst seeing England themselves. So there may be a language barrier that you didn’t expect.

And secondly, you’re even less likely to get good service if you are served by a Brit. I don’t quite know how that happened, actually. A couple of decades ago everyone used to be quite polite and courteous and would smile a lot, but now…well let’s just say there are a lot of stressed people out there.

So if you get great service, I’m really pleased for you and I hope you meet some real characters to make your stay more enjoyable. But if you don’t, please try not to take it personally, or wonder what you’ve done. Chances are they’re just what we in the UK tend to call a “miserable old git” (and you don’t need me to tell you that’s not very polite and not one to say to their face).

7. Head far from the madding crowd

I can understand why anyone would want to see London. Or Edinburgh. But if it’s real Englishness you’re after, why not try Cornwall, the Cotswolds or the Lake District? London is indeed our capital city, but if you think that the population of Greater London is around 7 million, that leaves 54 million of us living around the rest of the UK! Even her Majesty manages to spend a great deal of time at Windsor, Sandringham or Balmoral.

So whilst London is well worth a visit and is the place for pomp and ceremony, posh restaurants and museums, I would argue that much of Britishness is about market towns, country walks, farmer’s markets and great little pubs serving mouth-watering roast-lamb Sunday lunches.

There are historic houses, polo matches and quintessentially English village fetes to be visited. Curious events such as cheese-rolling, pancake racing or hill-rolling (yes, honestly!). Festive times such as Apple Day, Harvest festival, Bonfire night. And, of course, cafes everywhere offering the fabulously REAL English delicacy of a cream tea (which British people do actually partake of).

8. Prepare to steep yourself in Englishness.

When I’m in the States, I often buy books by American authors to read on the plane and get me ‘in the mood’ for my trip. It could be a modern author or even Mark Twain or Jack London.

Why not have a go? Always meant to read some Jane Austen? How about Jerome K. Jerome’s “Three Men in a Boat”? If in doubt, just buy a Stephen Fry offering.

And certainly if you’re headed for Stratford upon Avon (or The Barbican) and intending to watch a Shakespeare play, it’s a good investment to read a bit first. Even us Brits will admit that it takes a few minutes to “tune one’s ear in” to the words at the beginning of a Shakespeare play, because of the archaic language. And if you’re watching a fast-paced comedy such as Much Ado About Nothing, you don’t want to miss the caustic humour because you’re still translating it in your head.

9. Don’t drive in rush hour in London.

Just trust me on this one. You’ll be in a rented stick-shift car, you’ll spend all your time wondering where you can park and then crying when you realise you’ll need a new mortgage just to pay for an hour’s parking on Park Lane. The one-way systems are a nightmare unless you know them (or have the world’s best Sat-nav) and British people park in the smallest parking spaces known to man. The petrol costs a fortune and it would be quicker to walk anyway.

Convinced? Yep, I thought so.

Try the tube. Grab a cab. Hire a bike. Or even better, walk, meander, mooch, perambulate. You’ll notice lovely old bookshops down side streets. Secret little parks. And you’ll actually get to know the geography of London, rather than just seeing little disjointed bits of it. You’ll start accidentally discovering Real Englishness.

10. Try Skipping London Altogether

Gosh! Did I really just say that? Shame on me!!

I like big cities in the US and I love London. But I can’t help thinking that every time I came to the US, I learned more about the country and the people and felt more as if I understood America when I was working in small towns or tiny villages, popping into a tiny newsagent to buy a local paper and eating in local diners that hadn’t seen a tourist in years.

So why not combine a trip to England with something you do anyway?
Love sailing? Try the Isle of Wight.
Adore folk music? Try Fairport Convention at Cropredy (Oxfordshire) next August.
Fine Art? Visit Upton House, near Banbury.
Jane Austen fan? Try Bath. Or picnic on Box Hill!
Old cars? Go to the Goodwood Festival of Speed, or visit the Gaydon Heritage Motor Museum.
Walking? Head for the Cornish coastal path, Peak district or Lake district.
Birdwatching? Lots of beautiful places for “twitching”.
Classical music? Take a picnic to Kenwood (or one of the other concerts at stately homes all over the UK).
Medieval history? Start in Stratford or Warwick or York.

There has to be somewhere in the UK that was meant for you to discover. As well as London!

So there we have it. Ten tips to help you have a ‘more English’ experience on your trip to England. Before you know it, you’ll be planning another trip; dry-stone-walling with the National Trust in Yorkshire and then hopping on a canal boat in Warwickshire!

From the Heart… of England: Ten Tips from a True Brit to Help You Discover Real Englishness is a post from: Anglotopia.net

Exciting news for all those looking to get an inside look into what it’s like to live in the English countryside. Anna, a former BBC news correspdondent who now lives with her family in Oxfordshire has agreed to write a weekly column about Britain and living life in the English countryside.

She hopes to focus on the positive aspects of great Britain and paint a picture of Britain that you don’t normally get to see becuase there is always so much focus on London. Anna has travelled the world reporting for the BBC and has a fondness for us plucky Americans. Most recently, she was the BBC’s Science and Technology correspondent. Needless to say, we are very luck to have her posting here on Anglotopia!

Well, as anyone who’s been to London knows, there is way more to Britain than just London. So, we’re going to get an inside look into what it’s like to live deep in the heart of the English Countryside.

Here’s a little introduction written by Anna:

It’s all very well blogging about being English, but you’re already asking yourself if I am properly qualified for the job, I can tell. And that is perfectly understandable. It’s always best to make sure your ‘reliable’ source of information on England is not a French-speaking Haitian living in Timbuktu having only seen the UK on satellite TV.

So; confessions first:

• I do have two Spanish cousins by marriage and I’m married to a Scotsman (although he grew up in England).
• I suppose I could be more British, in that my family only moved to England around a thousand years ago (with William the Conqueror as one of his chefs) and before that we were French.
• I have never in my life owned a pair of galoshes (although I have occasionally felt a hankering for some).

However, if you’ll forgive these little discrepancies in my credentials, we can look at the good stuff.

I live in the very middle of England (Oxford to the South, Stratford upon Avon to the North, The Cotswolds to the West and….well, not very much to the East, to be perfectly honest). We inhabit a glorious mellow stone 17th century yeoman farmer’s house with a 1671 date-stone in a teeny weeny village where everyone knows everyone else and there are more sheep than people. I was born and educated in Warwickshire, read Enid Blyton avidly as a child, own a waxed jacket, am frequently seen wearing a twinset and pearls whilst carrying my handbag over the crook of my arm, can effortlessly bring jam to a good rolling boil and make a jolly decent cup of Assam tea (my teapot is my most essential kitchen item).

So if you can find it in your heart to forgive me the obvious oversight of the galoshes, we can make a start in helping you to discover, understand and embrace true Englishness in all its forms.

Anna will be posting weekly on Friday’s. Her first post will go live this Friday and will be about 10 Tips from a True Brit To Help You Discover True Englishness.

I can’t wait!

Let’s give Anna a big Anglotopia welcome!

Introducing Anna: Our New English Country Lady Blogger is a post from: Anglotopia.net