On Monday night I walked into the supermarket and saw a pizza combing the frozen foods, a dinosaur being carried through the bakery section and a slew of superheroes at war in the dairy aisle.
On my way home I walked past houses with giant spiders crawling through their windows, witches swooping over their doorways and impressively ghoulish pumpkins guarding their entrances.
Over the weekend I partied with a host of Sega characters, a giant white swan, Hunter S Thompson and Santa. It was messy. You can imagine.
New York does Halloween very well indeed. It makes me adore my adopted home just that little bit more.
And yet, as much as I love this place, there are still pieces of England that I long for…
I miss the way everyone apologizes for everything. “I’m sorry” or “pardon me” prefix everything from asking where the bathroom is to simply navigating a busy city street. In America I sound perpetually apologetic, in England I sound like everyone else.
I miss the fact that no one claps for the pilot when he lands the plane safely.
I miss the NHS.
I miss rolling hills and a pint at a country pub.
I miss the stiff upper lip. Fall down a flight of stairs in Britain and you are expected to do nothing more than crack an embarrassed smile and limp away, protesting that it is really nothing at all.
I miss Sunday roasts, blackberry crumble and hot cross buns.
I miss taxi drivers who know every address in the city and haven’t learnt to drive by playing Grand Theft Auto.
I miss chatting to friends over a cuppa rather than over Skype.
I realize that England has its problems, there are pieces of the country that I don’t miss at all, and I have no immediate plans to return to the homeland. But those thoughts are much too practical…I’d rather sit in my cozy New York flat picturing the UK as an idyllic land of digestive biscuits and sarcasm.
And I’m the opposite, although I do apologise for EVERYTHING now and adore a good crumble, love the NHS and even make a mean Yorkshire pudding.
I do miss very straight roads, better waiter/waitress service and my family and friends 😉 (among other things that I can’t think of…)
Yorkshire pudding, good one…a shameful omission. Popovers are good but just not quite the same.
Hear! Hear! Well said! Oh and sorry, but could we just add ‘bacon butties’ to this longed-for vision of Blighty, to make it absolutely tickety-boo? If it’s not too much trouble… ta ever so!
Alison! I can hear you saying every one of those words. And yes, apologies indeed, how could I have forgotten bacon butties?
I loved this post Katherine and sorry to hear you’re missing England. I’m curious, do Americans comment on you’re alway being apologetic? I used to work with a guy who was from Brazil and I used to always be sorry about everything and he would comment “you British are just to overly polite!”
Come visit us anytime. Although I live just over the border in Scotland – and can you get a roast dinner? Can you heck.
Hiten – Always! Its a bit of a vicious circle though…I have to say sorry for saying sorry.
Rach – Scottish roast in April then?!
Pingback: Is it the American Way?
Katherine, did you get a chance to carve any jack-o-lanterns or make a pumpkin pie? American traditions at this time of year. 🙂
Pam – yes to both, although I’m a much bigger fan of the baking. I have a boyfriend who is an outstanding pie maker.
I love this post (I am clearly a bit behind!!). The last sentence made me smile and feel fuzzy. I miss England too. Love your writing. xxx