I have spent a great deal of time on the tube this week observing these lovely British people. While they obviously speak English, it is the “Queen’s English” as opposed to American English (which is quite different from Texan English). As a side note, I heard someone ask if someone spoke English or British. It’s a fair question if you ask me.
So for any friends that are considering or already planned a trip over soon, I offer here a crash course in what I refer to as British (instead of English).
If one throws their rubbish in the bin, they are throwing the trash into the trashcan.
If someone asks you for a rubber, they would like to erase a pencil mark.
They may ask what is on the telly, at which point you should know which tv shows are on and at what time.
Trousers are of course pants, but it seems harder to understand when it is pronounced like trous-ahs.
If you hear someone say (and I did) “I do believe I have been firmly slapped upon my buttocks”, they mean they just got their ass chewed by someone else. This too sounds even more fun in British.
If someone would like to have a go, they really just want a turn to try whatever it is going on.
If you happen to be driving in London and you go into the congestion charge zone in your car, you best go online and pay your £10. If not you get a ticket for almost £80. The congestion charge zone is the center of town where the City is doing everything possible to discourage vehicular traffic. Just going once is deterrent enough for me.
There are several unwritten rules to mass transit as well. The most notable one is during rush hour (also referred to as armpit hour), it can become so crowded that the normal rules of social engagement and space no longer apply. It is perfectly acceptable to use the person next to you as a support during the sometimes chaotic movements of the train. Falling into the person next you happens so frequently that it is just accepted. No embarrassment, no shame, just a simple “oops, sorry” is sufficient. One thing that is not allowed is phone conversations. While most people make no eye contact (which is almost physically impossible during armpit hour), you will certainly be stared down if you dare speak on your phone.
As I slowly understand and appreciate many of the locals’ customs, I am beginning to understand why there exists a certain pride in being a London girl. The city is massive, the sights are never ending, and the place seems to never sleep. It is beautiful and fast paced. Everything is here. The costs are outrageous, but I understand why people pay them. This is a great place to live.
Cheers!