People often wonder why I'm so drawn to England. Many times, huddled under a heap of blankets, drinking endless cups of tea in a futile effort to keep warm, I've wondered that myself. Surely there are countries that are more sunny, exotic, and affordable? Of course there are. But there's something about the eclectic charm of the Old Green and Pleasant that keeps me coming back again and again.
Here are some of the reasons, in no particular order, as prompted by my latest trip:
* History. For someone hailing from a relatively young country, the sheer amount of old things - both weird and wonderful - is mindboggling.
* Pubs. The Finnish drinking culture is as sordid as our climate. The Brits, on the other hand, have turned their climate to their benefit, and come up with communal living rooms which tend to be warmer and comfier than their actual living rooms. And of course the beers are varied and tasty and cheap (from the Finnish perspective, at least).
* Fudge. Although the English sweet culture isn't as vibrant as the Finnish one, there are some things we haven't quite got the hang of yet. One is the gentle art of fudge-making. The best hand-made fudge I've ever had I came across in Arundel, but the one made by the monks of Buckfast Abbey was very delicious as well.
* Creativity. And the encouragement thereof. There's a lot of street art in Britain that would never survive in our northern climes - partly because it wouldn't be permitted in the first place, and partly because it would be destroyed by spraycan-happy teens as soon as it was created. The amazing murals of Stokes Croft in Bristol is only one example of this (for some great examples of what we saw, go here).
* English Breakfast, in moderation. This isn't suitable for vegetarians, obviously, nor a good option for those with high cholesterol, but for a financially challenged backpacker who's bent on walking 10 km a day the bacon-eggs-sausage-and-tomato option is a brilliant one. And, if it's complemented by fresh fruit, Greek yoghurt and muesli, along with some toast and tasty homemade jam (as it was in one of the B&Bs we stayed at), your bowels needn't complain, either.
The title of this post comes from this song by the Kinks. I first heard it when I was 17 or thereabouts, and already in the throes of anglophilia. Needless to say, the song only helped to reinforce my image of the England that Never Was.
The title of this post comes from this song by the Kinks. I first heard it when I was 17 or thereabouts, and already in the throes of anglophilia. Needless to say, the song only helped to reinforce my image of the England that Never Was.
