National Pride

After tea and toast for breakfast, it was time to go off for a quick walk into town (which didn't take long as Eastbourne town centre has only forty or so shops packed into a very small area).

Then a quick walk along the seafront, it was nice to see an international food fair near the pier. Stalls representing various countries such as Poland, Canada and France were presenting their wares. I managed to resist temptation as I knew I would need stuffed my face when I visited my parents later that afternoon.

When stopping off at Sainsburys to buy some supplies to eat in the UK and presents for friends back in Kraków I spotted that Krówki (fudge) was available. I had brought some all the way from Poland to give to my mother and all they were available right here on her doorstep. I consoled myself with the hope that I had probably saved some money and the fact that I had lugged them a 1,000 miles would make them more special.

I turned up at my parent's place at the appointed time. The front garden was surprisingly tidy (normally there would be bikes everywhere). The front door was already open. My mother was sitting watching TV at such a high volume that it made conversation virtually impossible. I handed her the treats I'd brought from Poland for her (the aforementioned specially-imported fudge and some Ptasie Mleczko) and a quiche which I'd bought from the not-so-for-away Sainsburys.

In the several hours that I was at my parents I managed to read a special edition of The Sun (distributed free to 22 million readers apparently). This was a special edition devoted to National Pride edition and British Greatness, issued to help us win the World Cup or something like. Along with the usual Sun rubbish about Churchill and the White Cliffs of Dover there were some generally amusing articles. Page three featured three girls (all clothed) supposedly representing English hotness. Kelly Brook (quite rightly) took the number one slot. One of the other girls had a distinctly Polish surname. Perhaps this was just a cynical ploy to convince the Great British Public (stop sniggering) that The Sun really isn't edited by a bunch of far-right Polophobes. There was a series of front-page mockups if The Sun had reported great events in history, such as the Great Fire of London.

There was also a series of lists (some of them amusing, others not so). For example, a list of the top things that characterises Englishness (note that this excludes the Welsh and Scots). Most of the things on this list would probably apply to Poles too. Another list titled "The Greatest Living English Person" was headed up by The Queen (God bless her). Near the bottom of the list, can you believe it, Ant and Dec. Hang on a minute, that is two people and they are not particularly that great. Well, that's Sun readers for you.


Later in the day I was reading the Daily Mail (another right-wing rag). This proved to be quite readable, including such high-brow articles as a feature about Keira Knightley's small but perky tits. There was also a comparison of the figures of women of now and sixty years ago. Apparently average women today are two inches taller, two dress sizes bigger and now have fantastic 36DD breasts (as opposed to the standard 34B of yesteryear).

My stay in England was quite well timed. In the evening a barbecue birthday party was planned. The weather was fantastic and the food was great too. During four hours sitting outside topics of conversation covered such diverse topics as how great driverless cars would be and Japanese porn terminology. At 11pm we had outstayed our welcome and moved on to our friend's flat (the guy who's birthday it was). Another hour and a half filled with more alcohol, chocolate and magic tricks with cards. I got to bed at 1AM, having had far too much food, alcohol and sun.


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