![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpnadghpxaSy8FzGVNzncWM5OeqzKZdBv3FcnEuse3MtlXeyserTgE9zRCfPX9ClI-Oaj6DN5SSFOOcM58QsrinGWczDz4O2E8bDH833FvHqsxPk1ylNlzD7PJLB5rq21r8lHCySdCCM8/s320/nablo09_micro.jpg)
Accents can lead to some dislocating moments: like when I was in Scotland - home to some pretty impenetrable accents itself - and in a pub in Bonnyrigg outside Edinburgh, our waitress seemed to have none at all. Turned out she was from Christchurch - probably the only non-Polish waitress in the whole of Scotland. I was so busy asking her about what she was doing there that I completely forgot to request an explanation of this banner on the wall outside, which still has me foxed.
And my English sister-in-law, despite having already spent some days with us on our recent visit, was still sufficiently caught out by my accent when I was talking about a service in Dublin Cathedral, to say in astonishment, "A circus? In the cathedral?"
Update: And then there was the foodie tour operator driving me around East Nuek, just north of Edinburgh, who foxed me completely with her mention of "steak and eel pie". A whole new taste sensation? No, actually the much more conventional combination of steak and ale.
No comments:
Post a Comment