Bridge · 12 January 2002
The English were everywhere at the Saturday morning market in Uzes; dressed in costly black and white, mid-twenties Bridget Jones outtakes, they move in groups, smoking not to look bored, on vac.
(Why is it so easy to dislike British conspicuously English1 people? Just the sound of a pack of monied Londoners – oh Geoffrey you’re wicked, see you half-six Rachel – is mortifying, the phalanxes of squinty half-gaping faces with polydirectional teeth and the tittering air of distaste for how painfully alien and unhip this all is, rather, is just so ick.)
Anyway we were there on the way to Pont du Gard, which is really neato. Here’s a picture of the little red-haired kid showing the inspiration for his design of the 5 Euro note.
- I usually never bother, even in cases of extreme error, to fix these things after the fact: I’m dreadfully lazy. However, since a number of Scots and Welsh wrote to grouse about this multinational generalisation, I’ll revise the inappropriate language.
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