Reflecting on British street character...
“Is it weird to be back?” I hear that a lot each time I return to this jigsaw-shaped island that floats west of mainland Europe. The first answer that springs to mind is “well, yes…and no.” Since that makes for a spectacularly boring blog post (not to mention conversation), I thought I’d pay my homeland of Britain a little more attention and write about something I have only noticed since I started travelling so much:
Britain is Chunky
Britain is chunky.
Chunky, not as a euphemism for fat, but as an expression for sturdy, bold and substantial. Britain is the Yorkie chocolate bar of countries. If France and Spain have a tendency for finesse and fiesta, then Britain’s street furniture (don’t laugh, that's what it's called) says “no fuss, please.” Solid red post boxes, block letters on signposts, road markings so thick they could double as a new form of Braille. Huge angular 50p pieces, police helmets like church bells and those cubes in Branston Pickle. Just imagine a pint of real ale next to a flute of champagne and you’ll understand what I mean.