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Saturday, 01 March 2008 20:57 |
 How Not to Visit London
One of the many joys we have in this modern age is international travel: we can go almost anywhere on Earth with the simple app-lication of a small pile of cash and a session of begging for leave to travel. We have the chance to broaden our minds and learn about cultures far different from our own. In extreme circum-stances, we can even find time to communicate with the natives, sometimes in their own language (as long as it’s English), sometimes in our own. Sadly, it can also lead to whole slews of new faux pas and opportunities to find ourselves in knife-fights with angry denizens of the territories we explore. It is my experience, however, that the adequately-prepared traveller is far less likely to find themselves in that sort of trouble and as such I have decided to draw up a short list of tips to help foreign visitors blend in a little better while they immerse themselves in one of the world’s great cultures.
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For starters, let’s talk about language. It is my sad duty to report that as a result of the European Treaty we are no longer allowed to talk like Bertie Wooster and the use of phrases like “Top hole!” and “I say”' is no longer permissible in public places. Words like “Spiffing” have also been surrendered in exchange for the right to use terms such as vol-au-vent, panache and je ne sais quoi. It wasn’t a popular choice, I know, and the riots lasted for a good few weeks (especially about “Spiffing” – the chaps down in the East End were terribly upset about that from what I hear), but the law’s the law and we get a touch miffed when people accidentally remind us of our lost linguistic heritage.
Use of the word “Quaint” is punishable by an on-the-spot fine of ten thousand guineas. Failure to pay this will result in summary execution, so play safe and try to avoid it entirely.
Then there’s the classic “Old bean.” The rules on this are exceedingly complex and far too involved to cover in this short article. I use several variants of the phrase myself, as do a number of my friends, but please by all that’s holy don’t try it if you haven’t got the accent! I have been known to reduce overseas friends to tears (whether of pain or laughter I’m still not entirely sure) simply by using phrases from their homeland in an inappropriate manner. Imagine, if you will, a cut-glass English accent reciting the following:
You go, girl!
How are all y’all doing?
G’day blue, throw another shrimp on the barbie.
Give me a pastrami on rye with blue cheese and sauerkraut – on legs.
Fantastic – we’ve won the World Cup!
See? None of these are phrases that any self-respecting Brit would consider using. It’s just not worth the pain one would cause to a native speaker. Please extend us the same cour-tesy. While we’re at it, try to skip “My good man” as well – you’re not the local squire addressing a servant, no matter how much tweed you might be wearing, and all your “Good man” will do is point at you and laugh behind your back.
Ah yes, tweed. The word you’re looking for is sparingly, especially in town. If you look around a modern British city, you will see that we dress very much like you do at home. Your own clothes will, therefore, do just fine over here as well, especially if cut and worn nicely. Trying too hard will look like a costume and again leads to pointing, laughing and, in extreme cases, deportation. We no longer check luggage for ugly pantaloons when entering the country, but offenders caught wearing them are still allowed to be used for archery practice on a Sunday in accordance with an old 15th century law. We like our traditions, you see, and simply love a chance to keep them alive.
Don’t complain about the temperature of our beer: we like it that way. If it was good enough in the twelfth century, it’s good enough in the twenty-first.
Remember that we drive on the left and that road traffic laws don’t apply to taxis. This isn’t because of an old law; it’s simply because nobody’s had the courage to tell them otherwise. If you’ve ever seen a London cabbie lose his temper, you’ll understand why.
The Guards you see at Buckingham Palace, Horse Guards and other places do indeed look very decorative and are a glimpse of the pomp and ritual that pervade British life even to this day. They are also highly-trained elite combat troops when they’re not standing very still, so you might want to think twice before trying to upset them in your attempts at a humorous photo-opportunity.
I suppose I ought to mention the ladies who populate our fair capital. I once heard it said there is a secret bunker beneath Piccadilly Circus that holds ten thousand beautiful women and that every summer they are released to fill London with an elegance and aesthetic joy that rivals any other city in the world. If this is true, and I have no evidence to the contrary, then please treat them kindly. Ply them with expensive cocktails and gourmet food, and remember your manners – they each carry a selection of weaponry that would make Conan the Barbarian blush, and know how to use it on cheap dates.
And finally, one last imprecation: if you’re walking around the West End, for pity’s sake, don’t dawdle! Special teams of hand-picked tour guides roam Oxford Street and its environs with cattle prods to stop people doing just that, and the marks they leave could be embarrassing to explain when you get home.
So there we are – some friendly advice from a local. Try to bear these few tips in mind and we’ll try not to ask you for nylons, chewing gum, or chocolate. Enjoy your visit!
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