English things - faff, spiders and paving stones

I've been noticing a few things about living in England recently that I just wouldn't have known about until I moved here. As a public service I'm warning you about them...

This came up by searching 'faff'?!?

Faff
In case you're not sure, to faff basically means 'fuss, flap, bother,' etc. It can be a verb or a noun i.e. "We can't faff around forever" or "There was the usual faff of getting through airport security". You can also be faffing about.

Let me warn you - there is a reason that this is a particularly English word. The flip-side of the beautifully polite and orderly queueing is a notable inefficiency. For example, even large chain cafes tend to have all their staff doing everything at once i.e. making coffee, taking orders, clearing tables (or not clearing them as the case may be). This is vastly slower than the practise in New Zealand of having a dedicated barista and someone else operating the till. I think the general tolerance of crowds and queues leads to less pressure to keep things moving. 

Autumn Spiders
I'm not going to give you a picture of this one! I'm fairly arachnophobic and I've been horrified to discover that it's an actual thing where every autumn large spiders suddenly start coming inside looking for a mate! This never happened in New Zealand (or least spiders came in every so often, but not en masse in one season). So far I've had two in bed at different times, including one crawling through my hair. NOT ON!

Trick paving stones
Here's another good autumn/winter tip - beware of the trick paving stones! English footpaths are covered in all sorts of things from old cobblestones to stone blocks, pavers, concrete or asphalt. If you've got paving underfoot and it's been raining recently, do step carefully. What can happen (and it's happened to me) is that a loose paver gathers a little reservoir of muddy water. When the time is right (i.e. when you step on it), the paver gushes filthy water over your shoes, up your legs and possibly even manages to splash your coat. This will comprehensively ruin your day.

So, just a few handy tips if you're thinking of emigrating or visiting. Are you going to adopt the word 'faff' now? (Try it, it's fun!).

Gosh, I miss...

So I'm about to pop back to New Zealand for a visit. People occasionally ask me 'are you homesick?' or 'what do you miss?'. To be honest, I'm not really homesick and I don't miss much about New Zealand other than my friends and family and cat. I haven't really craved particular foods like this article suggests people do. Maybe part of the reason is that New Zealand food is basically British food as the country was settled/ invaded by the Brits a couple of hundred years ago.

That said, when I'm back in New Zealand what will I be indulging in?

New Zealand Marmite
A totally different beast to the English version or the Australian Vegemite. I've loved Marmite since I was a child. I used to get a teaspoon of Marmite and dip it in a cup of milk, then suck the milk off, then re-dip etc. (This isn't the normal New Zealand method of consumption!)

Weetbix
Not Weetabix which goes soggy the moment it touches milk. Weetbix is a bit tastier and firmer in texture.

Twisties
Far cheesier than Wotsits - and much more brightly coloured.

Kumura
A type of sweet potato - excellent roasted with potatoes, pumpkin, parsnips and served with lots of gravy!

New Zealand wines
Especially Pinot Noir and Sauvingnon Blanc and Kim Crawford's unoaked Chardonnay. In my price range, I've only seen rather odd and unpleasant New Zealand wines in supermarkets in England. You can find a few good brands like Oyster Bay, but they're generally a bit expensive for me. It is nice to have access to a huge range of French, Spanish, Chilean etc. wines over here but sometimes I miss a good Kiwi wine.

So, I think that's about it. What about you - what's your taste of home? Is there anything you miss when you're away?

England's not the mythical land

Sinead O’Connor’s line “England’s not the mythical land of Madame George and roses, it’s the home of police who kill black boys on mopeds” has been running through my head lately. In thinking about living in England, I’d say that actually the country has got elements of both. 

On the ‘police who kill black boys in mopeds’ side there is a real thread of nastiness in England. At the moment, there is horrific rhetoric about anyone unfortunate enough to be on a benefit suggesting that they’re lazy, not trying to get a job, bringing England down etc. Disabled people are being questioned and criticised about how disabled they really are. There is overt and covert racism, homophobia, class prejudice and sexism. 

As an immigrant myself, I wince at the harsh words against ‘uncontrolled immigration’ supposedly leading to a shortage of housing and jobs and a drain on the welfare state. I know as a white, middle class, English speaking immigrant, I’m privileged. The hate isn’t really directed at me, but I still feel the sting of it.

But still... with the angst of the welfare cuts and nastiness popping out here and there, England seduces me back into seeing the ‘Madame George and roses’ side.

I spent several hours driving around rural Dorset and Somerset yesterday. The countryside was like a cat or a supermodel; effortlessly beautiful from any angle. There were rolling hills, little clumps of big old oak trees, sheep and lambs in the fields, villages with thatched stone cottages, old churches, pubs and little windy roads because they were built in horse and cart times. I saw three does grazing by the side of the road, a large white heron, pheasants in the fields and several little brown raptors.

People often ask in an amazed tone why on earth I moved from New Zealand. I think they see it as a dreamy Hobbiton-type place. I tell them that New Zealand is beautiful, but England is beautiful too. There is a lot of that mythical land left. The place where the books I read as a child were set: Wind in the Willows and the Famous Five. Then there were Shakespeare, Keats, Jane Austen, Dorothy L Sayers all writing love letters to this beautiful country. They have a point. England is still undeniably gorgeous and I feel very lucky to be able to be here experiencing it. 

If you’re English – what do you think about my outsider’s view? If you’re not, do you think there’s a dark underbelly in your country? What form does it take?