Tuesday, July 28, 2009

What's with the British... the case of the missing top sheet!

This particular "What's with the British" segment isn't a rant; it's not something that bothers me, just something I find puzzling, even though it's almost completely inconsequential. The British don't seem to believe in top sheets.

Let me explain. I'm used to what I now assume is the North American way of making a bed. You have a bottom sheet, with fitted corners. This is followed by a flat top sheet, then the blanket. This has several advantages, but the main two are that if it's hot, you can take the blanket off, but still have something over you in which to wrap yourself; additionally, the blanket stays cleaner and thus requires less washing, as it never really comes into contact with those who are sleeping in the bed. I realise you then need to wash the top sheet more, but it's a lot easier than wrestling with a duvet cover.

So why do the British omit this sheet, putting the blanket right on top of the bottom sheet? I have no idea. Maybe it's a cost saving thing, maybe it's because it rarely gets hot enough to only have a sheet rather than a blanket. I dunno. It's a puzzlement.

Friday, July 24, 2009

What's with the British... street signs

Navigating around anywhere with which you're unfamiliar is always tricky. You don't know the main streets, much less the smaller cross streets, you don't know where one-way streets are and are not, etc. Thus, the road system should be setup to make this as painless as possible. One of the ways you can do this is through street signs. If someone tells you "turn right on Oxford road, then left on Smith avenue", it obviously makes it a load easier if those streets are labelled. Cities are therefore kind in labelling these streets well. Or so I thought. Let's compare a hypothetical corner in Canada to one in the UK, shall we. Here's a random street corner from a fairly small street in Toronto. It happens to be near where I used to live and is a very reasonable facsimile for countless intersection across Canada. I have labelled the potential locations for the street sign with red dots.
The potential locations are:
  1. About a meter in from one of the corners, on an 2.5-metre pole.
That's it. That is the only place it will ever be. The signs look like this:


This will be the case for every single intersection. If you are going along a street and pass five cross streets, you will see each cross street labelled, and will see the name of the street you're on five times (helping confirm the street name hasn't changed, etc.). The only exception to this is for major streets where in addition to these signs, there will be a gigantic sign hanging above the street itself, to make it easier for motorists to see. That will look something like this:


That's it. Consistent. Predictable. Visible. Obvious. Easy to find, easy to read. It doesn't matter if you don't know the city well, you will damn well know what street you're on at all times. It doesn't matter at which point you get on the street, because every intersection is clearly labelled in the same manner.

Then we come to Britain. Oh Britain. My only thought is that the Ministry of Transport is secretly running psychological experiments disguised as a guessing game. Because they don't locate the signs in any way that makes any damn sense. Let's look at a fairly typical intersection in Manchester:



The street sign(s) (there may be zero, one or two), may be in any of the following locations:
  1. One the corner on a pole (very, very rare, I think I've seen this about twice in four years).
  2. On the main street (on any of the four corners, but only one at most).
  3. On the side street. Again, only in one location. Note that this means if you are driving along the main street in the right direction, you will see no labelling for the side street at all.
  4. About a foot off the ground on a fence surrounding the house. This may be as far down the side street as 20 metres or so.
  5. Behind a bush in front of someone's house. Again, might be as far as 20 metres down.
  6. On the side of one of the houses, about 3 metres off the ground.
  7. Nowhere at all (happy guessing time!)
Note that not only are the signs in any number of different, unpredictable locations, not only are they often obscured by trees, bushes, fences, roof overhangs, etc., not only do they only ever face one direction at most (so if you're going the other way, you're basically screwed). But on top of all of that, they often just don't have a sign at all. This is especially common for a main street with several sides streets intersecting it-only about one side street in ten will have a labelling for the main street as well.

Let me tell you where this is annoying. I was going to a friend's poker night, as part of his bachelor party. I had printed out a map of his neighbourhood. I came to an intersection where I had to turn right or left, but didn't know which. In Canada, no problem. Pick one way at random and see what the first side street is. If it matches the map for the direction you're supposed to be going, great. If not, turn around. Max time wasted: about 2 minutes. I walked for twenty-five minutes without a single cross street being labelled (or the main street) and without seeing a single house number either (so I couldn't even tell if the numbers were approaching my friend's number or getting further away). I lucked out and had turned the right way, but there was a 50-50 chance of that.

I dunno, maybe some people find this fun. I like surprises as much as the next person, but I don't think that figuring out where I am in an unfamiliar city is the best time and place for a guessing game. It's no wonder everyone here has satellite navigation in their car: if not, you're liable to end up in France by accident. And nobody wants that.

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

What's with the British... baked beans

OK, this is a small one, so let me be brief: baked beans. They're nasty. Gritty, tasteless, horrible things, far-too-often covered in a nasty, overly-sweetened artificial-tasting tomato sauce. Not good at all. And back in the day, when the mines were your main source off employment, I can see using them.

But now? No, put them away. Don't put them on toast. Don't put them on potatoes, don't put them on sandwiches or anything. They are just nasty. And the worst part is, the British zeal for soaking any food in sight with baked beans ruins some otherwise great food, notably the breakfasts. I love almost everything in a traditional English breakfast. Bacon? Awesome. Sausages? Awesome. Fried potatoes, toast, fried mushrooms? Awesome. Even the tomato is decent. So you're off to a great start. And then, BAM! Out of nowhere comes the baked beans, generally slopped on with a huge ladel, just ruining all they touch.

Britain, hear me well: put the baked beans down, and walk away slowly and nobody gets hurt.

See the rest of my "What's with the British..." series.

Thursday, July 09, 2009

What's with the British... traffic lights


In my years on this planet, I have travelled to many different countries (19 at this point), and have keenly enjoyed the differences between one culture and the next. While I do believe-clichéd though it may be-that there is more that makes us alike than different, more that unites us than divides us, I also feel that the nuances between two cultures are always fascinating and add spice to one's life and one's travels. So I love to see the differences, and compare my experience to the cultures I see around me.

In many cases, these differences are neither good nor bad, just different and interesting. However, that's not to say there are some differences worth pitting two countries against one another for. And thus we come to today's "What's with the British..." post. I have come to the conclusion that out of everywhere I've lived, Britain alone must gain the title for World's Worst Drivers.

Now, I know this is contentious, and perhaps "worst" isn't exactly accurate. Let me clarify: Britain has the world's most inconsiderate drivers. I've ce
rtainly seen scarier drivers. The French for example, seem to have a distorted view of the size of their car, and merrily jostle into a space far too small for them (as evinced by the myriad bumps and scrapes on French cars). Americans practically invented road rage, and with somewhere in the neighbourhood of 250 million guns in the country, have reasons to fear that rage. The Cubans drive at breakneck speed, on whichever side of the road happens to be paved better, all while dodging oxen, chickens, and giant pickup t
rucks with 50 people in the back. And never before or since have I feared for my life like I did the day I took a taxi in Istanbul to Koç University evidently piloted by the illegitimate child of Mario Andretti and Lizzie Borden.

But I think the British are woefully inconsiderate for one primary reason (and many smaller ones I won't elucidate here): they have redefined the traffic light. This little fella right here:
Now to the rest of the world, this is a very standard symbol. Green means go, amber means slow down and red means stop. The British, however, have reinterpreted this. Green still means go, sure. But amber now means "fucking floor it!" and red means "don't worry, you've still got time to get through". I saw an American standup comedian once who described the people squeaking through at a red light by saying the first guy was legitimately unable to stop, the next guy excuses himself by saying he was just following the previous guy and a third person sneaks through admitting "sorry, I'm just an asshole". In Britain, four more cars follow that guy!

Most of these "What's up?" posts haven't been to rant-ish so far, but this one is: Britain, please stop when the light is red. I know you could lose up to 20 precious seconds, but I'm sick and tired of almost being run over for crossing-legally-on my bike or as a pedestrian!

See the rest of my "What's with the British..." series.