One Language divided by two countries.

I speak English. At least I thought I did.

They speak English here, at least I thought they did.

And yet, I can’t understand a bloody thing. I know they’re speaking English. And I can hear the words, but the combination of what they say coupled with a heavy accent makes comprehension right near impossible. I have, however, started thinking with an accent. Even as I type this, in my head, it comes out with an accent. So I would highly recommend from here on to read this post with a heavy british accent.

Case in point: A woman at the grocery store asked me if I wanted a small bag for my purchase. I thought she said do I have a small pound. I looked at Al and asked what a small pound was. She just rolled her eyes and answered the woman.

Another case in point: We were driving along – very fast – on this narrow, winding country road and we come across a Lorry. Yah, exactly what I did. What the hell is a lorry? Well, if you must know it’s a delivery truck. We call them semi trucks in the US – though they aren’t as big here.

I watched a soap opera last night and understood about 1/5th of it. I mean after all it was a soap opera…how hard are they to understand.

The other funny thing to me are the road signs. Of the signs we past yesterday my favorite was a traingular sign, with bold read around the trim. In the middle a LARGE red exclamation point. Under it said 400 meters. So, what? I'm going to run into a very large exclamatiion point in 400 meters. Then what? They also have the standard Deer Xing signs. Though yesterday one of the signs I saw said, "Elderly". Um? Is that Elderly crossing, or Elderly at play. Or just beware that old people are in the area and may not know what the hell they are doing.

Let’s get back to the narrow, winding country road for a moment. I cannot BELIEVE how narrow some of their roads are here. And by narrow I mean N-A-R-R-O-W! Nor can I believe how fast they drive through these narrow roads (or on the motorway for that matter. We were doing 90 on the way back from Windsor Castle. I asked Al if they clock their speed in MPH or Kilometers. She said MPH - GULP!). The odd part is it seems like they are in complete control. As if they know what they’re doing. I’d take a photo of these roads, but I’m too busy grasping the door handle. And yet I don’t actually feel afraid for my life. It’s a very odd situation to be in.

You think this sign is a joke, but I'm not kidding when I say that I've seen more than my fair share of signs like this...and frankly, how they get around their round'abouts is beyond me. I swear nothing makes sense. And yet, they all seem to know what's going on.

I didn’t take a single picture yesterday. They actually had me working. The nerve. Then by the time we got home it was dinner and a 3 course meal at that – which according to Al’s husband isn’t the norm. We had Caprese Salad ( tomatoes, fresh mozzarella and olive oil), chicken broccoli lasagna, and the “after” was a lemon tart with clotted cream. Oh and before dinner, of course, we took part in having a Pimms.

Tonight I get the tour of Cirencester. I can hardly wait. As we drive through it Al points out things like "That's the oldest hedge in the country" or "that's the oldest hospital in all creation". (joking of course, but I swear every discriptive word is "oldest").