An Open Letter to the UK After being Awake for 24 hours

Dear United Kingdom,

Can I call you Britain? Maybe you’d prefer England? You say that’s for close friends only? I see. Well I can be that way as well.

It must be said up front that you ought to be a whole nicer to red eye travellers when they touch down in your ancient nation. Heathrow is a bit of a nightmare and frankly, if y’all are going to be welcoming the world in 2012 might I suggest making it easier to get out of the airport? I can admit that plane food, gin and very little sleep do not make for a top o’ the morning (I know, I know… Irish) kinda experience but still. Might you also tell your commuters the following: Hooray for publuic transit patronage but if you’re going to be running everywhere and acting all late and huffy why not leave a smidge earlier?

Author’s note: The second half of this letter was composed after a lengthy nap and filling up on pints and Morris dancing…

Oh, England! How I love thee! Let me count the ways:

1. You’re not garish and huge and from my view from Brighton and Hayward’s Heath you don’t appear to be in love with Big Boxes. I love that your citizens drive little cars and that every sink in which I have washed my hands has been a quaint, space saving gem. It’s the little things, of this I am aware…

2. You love sandwiches and pasties and pie and stopping in the day to have a cuppa (or a pint of real cider) and maybe a little slice of something.

3. Morris dancing! I have videos that will speak volumes but for now let us just say, “Oy”!

4. DM is happy and full of crisps (potato chips, you wankers!) that taste like Canadian ham. Honest. I don’t care for ham but I sure do loves me some ham flavoured chips.

5. People say “jolly good”, in all seriousness. I think. I have a theory they might put it on for the tourist pig dogs but as when I was in Australia, I am constantly amused by what comes out of the mouths of Britons.

Who are the Britons? Why we all are! And I am your King.

So UK, after a rough start, we’re friends again. North Americans sure are fickle.

Love,

Kim