A-HA! I knew you had a closet full of Laura Ashley dresses! [sub]And you tried to deny it…ha![/sub]
As an American living in the UK, I always make sure that I bring back a goodly supply of nylons, Hershey’s chocolate and Camel cigarettes from the US. After all, what with all that rationing these things are worth more than gold…
Based on this Cranky, you should come and stay with us for a week. Our village has clouds, cold, low stone walls, sheep (also donkeys), sturdily-built tweedy older people of either gender, lots and lots of dogs, stone country cottages with more fireplaces than you can shake a stick at, thatch and even tea and scones.
No lemon curd though.
Incidentally, when out walking at the weekend, I emerged from the wood to the wonderful sight of a deer. Unfortunately I was so excited that I shouted to the kabbess, “Look! It’s a DEER!” Bizarrely it ran away.
LoadedDog - We have the Epsom North Downs virtually out of our back garden. You can walk through as many fields as you like there without seeing any buildings.
England is extraordinarily densely populated in its urban centres. Greater London has ~15 million of our ~55 million population. There’s plenty of room left over for tweed and sheep.
pan
It isn’t the size of the boat, it’s the motion of the ocean.
Oh wait, wrong thread 
Seriously though, it isn’t as though England is that small, it’s just that your countries are very, very big.
IIRC, you could fit the entire population of the world into Loch Ness, so I guess people just don’t take up too much space
Excellent point. P.J. O’Rourke wrote, in an article for Car and Driver, that Britain has a population density like “the toy floor of Macy’s at Christmas time” but there’s still plenty of room to tool around in your off-road vehicle. Though I imagine you’d want to be on an expense account like he was, to pay for gas ('scuse me, petrol).
Anyway, I guess I believe P.J. but I honestly can’t picture it in my mind. When I think of England I do not think of wide open spaces. I think of everything being small and neat and tidy, even in the rural areas.
Or maybe the monster eats 'em faster than they can pile in?
As for the OP, my favorite image of England is the view from the roof of York Backpackers Hostel, which happens to be my SO’s workplace, on a Friday evening in the summertime. Gloriously late sunsets. Thousand-year-old city walls. The back gardens of the pubs starting to fill up, and a few parties of drunks hollering in the street. A couple of Indian restaurants doing a brisk trade. The Minster rising in the background, looking like something made out of sand or icing, not solid stone, and a smudge of green fields beyond it all. And one of the nice things about sitting on rooftops is, I get to pretend I actually own the place.
Sigh. I wish I were there now. I don’t even know how to express what makes it so special, except … y’all seem like you have so much history you don’t need to take it seriously, unlike here, where anything built before 1800 is basically a theme park.
Damn. You’ve rumbled me. [sub]But I kinda liked it. And I look so cute in the dresses![/sub]
Are you feeling better now my fellow bumpkin, I heard you was having a bad time. I hope dat u iz OK 
Shirley’s Views On England:
The basic TV just sucks. (like here.)
You pre-buy your movie theater ticket & have a prearranged seat. Totally weird the first time I encountered that.
Exceptionally clean streets despite the fact there are no garbage bins anywhere to be had. ( In an effort to keep the IRA from dropping bombings in public places.)
The stuff in the pet food aisle at Tessco’s is 75% cat food stuff and 25% dog stuff.
Some smaller area public rest rooms use toilet paper that is very much like wax paper that you pick your donuts out with. (I shit you not.)
Everyone I met seemed to think that it would take about four or five hours to drive across the US.
One cannot just run into any pub or restaurant and use their toilets and take off, like we do here. One must buy something like a drink. It is only courteous.
8.(this is a biggie for me) there are no electrical outlets inside a person’s bathroom because - get this - you bloody englishperson type people just might electrocute yourselves just blow drying your hair while standing in a puddle of water. What a bunch of maroons. You stand on a soggy towel while drying the coiffure, pshaw!
Knitting is more popular there than crochet.
No one likes the Milenneum Wheel or the French.
Curry is the national dish.
Sir Clive something or other has made a pact with the devil and manages to have a record career despite the fact no one under 60 likes his music.
This American’s image of England:
No orthodontists are to be found anywhere in the British Isles. Outlawed, or something.
England has more gays and lesbians than it will admit to.
England is still very class-oriented, but is trying hard to pretend otherwise.
England is confused about the purpose of the royal family, beyond being very high-maintenance tourist attractions.
Everyone is relatively innocent and kind-hearted, compared to the rest of the world. Even the criminals don’t really want to hurt you. Must be the slang. When you hear, “Oi!” or “Blimey!” or “Hallo, love!” how can you not smile? Even the worst foul language is charming: “the bloody, buggery teaspoon…”
Everyone knows a lot more about their country’s history (especially local history) than any American knows about American history. Not hard to do, when you might grow up in an apartment building that predates the Declaration of Independence, or when you are surrounded by landmarks like castle ruins, Stonehenge, or Roman roads. Or your family has lived in the same part of England for centuries. Wow.
As a consequence, annual local festivals are a much bigger deal. The village completely shuts down so everyone can participate. And it’s only partly to grab some of that all-important tourism cash.
The power establishment is much more conservative than that of the U.S. Not farther right-wing, just more uniformly status-quo than we can imagine. Parliament doesn’t have “right-wing” or “left-wing” politicians; even Labour is very old school to our eyes. The upper classes are dangerously, absurdly out of touch with the real world, but it doesn’t matter, since the government doesn’t want to change anything anyway and does so only when global market forces compel them to change.
The true members of the aristocracy are very few in number, a dying breed, and are very, very sheltered and clueless about how the rest of the world lives. In fact most of them have very little money left and can no longer afford their ancient estates. Many are desperate to do anything to raise some cash, such as selling off a wing of the ancestral home or renting the estate to corporate retreats or for use as movie locations.
Upper-class events of “the season” like Ascot and fox-hunting are generally kept up only for the sake of tradition (and tourism, of course). (Who wants to go fox-hunting, anyway? It’s not about hunting foxes. It’s about riding around the countryside in those silly riding costumes.)
Way too many Americans are still loyal to the concept of royalty and “the mother country” than they ought to be.
English schools are generally easier or the same as American schools, but getting in to (and staying in) “university” is much harder. (Well, “Oxbridge,” anyway. I understand there actually are some ordinary “unis” and community college equivalents that are more than just vocational-training schools now.) Oh, and “Oxbridge” graduates actually retain what they’ve learned, unlike “test-and-forget it” American college students.
England has ridiculously limited television, so everyone has a satellite dish and watches European television (which is probably not much better - news and gardening and game shows and sport). Probably watch a lot of American junk TV shows, come to think of it.
English food is uniformly and inexplicably bad. How can you mess up meat and potatoes? Just trim off the fat, for goodness’ sake. Pot roast and boiled potatoes every night, then down to the pub for a pint. Or else hideous concoctions of microwave convenience foods. Eurgh.
The English distrust the Scots, disregard the Welsh, and HATE the Irish. They’ve forgotten all about Australia, New Zealand, Canada, India, South Africa… They’re glad they let the U.S. go and look on us with astonishment, dismay, and muted admiration.
But when push comes to shove, no one is as quietly, fervently patriotic as an English subject. It’s not about flag-waving and singing anthems. It’s about knowing that centuries of your ancestors lived and died here, that the world once revolved around the British Empire, and that the English language is now spoken around the world. That “there will always be an England,” and you’re glad you were born here to be a part of it.
People are friendlier to neighbors and tourists, and are more cooperative in society instead of wanting to stand out and raise a ruckus.
Public transportation is much better - cleaner, safer, easier to use, cheaper. And cab drivers receive training beforehand and actually know what they’re doing!!
London is the only city in the world that even compares to New York, really - but again, safer, cleaner, and the people are more polite. But staggeringly expensive to live there.
Unless you’re wealthy and can afford a Mercedes, you drive an ugly econobox (like Mr. Bean’s Mini) or you use public transportation.
What TheLoadedDog said about population and unspoiled countryside.
One’s sports teams are very, very important.
I’m guessing that most Americans get their images of England (outside of London) from Winnie the Pooh books, The Wind in the Willows, The Hobbit if not TLotR, the Narnia books, Masterpiece Theatre, Jeeves & Wooster, Lovejoy, AbFab, etc.
So how close did I come?
What’s the deal with English Toilets? The handles have to jiggled jst right - too much or too little pressure and nothing happens.
Kind of like coins in public pay phones - if it doesn’t go in jussssstttt riigggghhthtt it slides right through, leaving the other party calling “hello? hello?” in vain.
But the UK does have one big plus - page 3 girls.
No wonder all the business men commuting on the trains have those smiles.
Phouchg
Lovable Rogue
Ah, yes…
“This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle,
This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,
This other Eden, demi-paradise,
This fortress built by Nature for herself
Against infection and the hand of war,
This happy breed of men, this little world,
This precious stone set in the silver sea
That serves it in the office of a wall,
Or as a moat defensive to a house,
Against the envy of less happier lands;
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England…”
Sends shivers down my spine, and I’m not even English (well, I am of English descent). And when I was there, I felt a real connection with the place, and occasionally really miss it – which probably just relates to your point #11. 
Anyway…memories of England from my all-too-brief trip (a tour with my choir, btw) there…
Green hills everywhere, and bright yellow flowers. Driving to Salisbury on a misty morning (and telling everyone “This place looks like the Shire!”)
Going around everywhere with eyes wide and mouth agape – yes, I know, I’m such a dork – thinking “So this is where that happened!” and being informed by the tour guide of things I already knew about after having mentioned that I’m a student of early modern English literature.
Bright lights in Piccadilly Circus, and people walking in front of our photos. Late-night pub crawling, and a really good alcoholic beverage called Red Square. Signs that read “no football colors.”
The Underground – confusing, but an enjoyable experience, especially when being told to “Mind the gap.” Singing on the tube with choir buddies. Nearly getting mauled in Leicester Square. Thinking it’s just so cool to be in the London Bridge station.
Red phone booths and mailboxes. They’re much cooler than the blue mailboxes and clear phone booths in the States…
Getting lost in Southwark, somewhere around the Globe tavern. Being rather disturbed by the sign hanging over the Clink. Chattering nonstop about all the things that happened in the area.
The indescribable experience of stepping into the “wooden O” of the Globe Theatre – thatched roof, painted pillars, blue and gold “heavens,” just as I imagined it. It was beautiful.
Praying at St. Paul’s. Thoughts of Donne, Milton, Purcell, and of course Wren. Seeing the crypt, and being grossed out by the story of Nelson’s final return to England (in a barrel of rum). (Unfortunately, I didn’t know when I was there that Sir Arthur Sullivan was buried at St. Paul’s, so I didn’t get to see his grave.)
Some appalling food – fatty meat at a restaurant in Salisbury, peas everywhere, a truly frightening fried cod. I do, however, have fond memories of the baked bean dippers at Burger King.
Salisbury Cathedral – trying to wrap my mind around the idea that I was standing in a place that had been there for eight hundred years. Singing there was scary (ever tried singing in a cathedral? You can’t hear anything, but I’m told it sounds great to the people listening.) but wonderful.
The church service at St. Peter’s, Ealing – a chance to meet regular people. Everyone was really nice, and they served lemon squash. The altar boys were adorable. The closing hymn was “The Battle Hymn of the Republic,” which I appreciated.
Rushing to the South Bank to get to the theater in time, and missing the first twenty minutes of “The Merchant of Venice” (and then, when they showed the production on PBS, I managed to miss the beginning again). Preparing to throw a temper tantrum if my friends suggested we’d missed too much of the play for it to be worth it – luckily, this was not necessary, and the play was amazingly good. Walking along the Bankside at night, and crossing Westminster Bridge, giving us the chance to see Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament all lit up. Trying to find someplace to eat afterwards (we almost went to a place called the Shakespeare Tavern or something like that, but ended up at Burger King).
The sarcastic bobbies in front of Buckingham Palace. I have a picture with them.
Not minding having really sore feet, because seeing London was worth it.
The view of the white cliffs of Dover from the ferry.
Argh, I want to go back…
[QUOTE]
*Originally posted by Shirley Ujest *
**
10. No one likes the Milenneum Wheel or the French.
everyone but everyone loves the millenium wheel. It was the millenium dome which managed to suck and blow at the same time.
You’re right about the French though. Except David Ginola.
Saw many of those in England did you?
http://www.ukpa.gov.uk/_6_eligibility/6_who_is.htm
British Subjects*
This generally applies to people who were born before 1 January 1949 and who had a connection with either British India or the Republic of Ireland (Southern Ireland).
Can we have some kind of TV or radio announcement in the non-UK countries (especially the US) that we are British Citizens? Our passport says it bright and clearly on the final page. We live (well not me, 'cos I’ve emmigrated to Sweden) in a Constitutional Monarchy (http://infomanage.com/conflictresolution/monarchies.htm) meaning that the monarch does not have absolute power, thus meaning the people are not subject to the Monarch.
Two definitions of Constitutional Monarchy:
http://www.butterworths.com.au/legalwords/html/000313.htm
A form of government established under a constitution which retains a monarch as the head of state.
http://campus.northpark.edu/history/Koeller/TII/ConstMonarchy.N.html
A state in which the powers of the king are checked by other constitutional sanctioned institutions, such as a representative assembly or an independent judiciary.
Personally, as the phrase “British Subject” is usually spitted out with distaste at British Citizens by foreigners, as a means of expressing their superiority by not being tied to a monarchy, these days I consider it a racial slur and it makes me quite angry. It is not the correct term, has not been the correct term since the British Nationality Act of 1948. You can read more about it here: http://www.gherson.com/news.php3?article=nationality
In short, please do not use the term “British Subject”. It is incorrect and many British Citizens find it offensive.
And on that note, If you do claim british subjectry using the Southern Ireland pre-1949 link, try not to mention it in a pub in rural Ireland. Some people might take offence to it, especially since we claimed independence in 1922. (We declared a republic in 1949)
Judging from what’s on television, typical “British subjects” seem to include gardening, DIY home decorating, cooking, travel, pets, cars and football.
You’re the first I’ve met! In fact I’ve never heard of this being offensive and, logically, it isn’t. It’s like someone spitting “You Very Handsome Man!” or something.
Of course you have to be a Brit(ish Subject) to look at it that way; and if you’re not then the term doesn’t apply to you anyway!
[QUOTE]
*Originally posted by Reuben *
**
Not this one.
I think of england:
Ok i’ll bite
[qoute]english women in bed are like Anne.
[/quote]
How do you know what Ann (No ‘e’) is like in bed ?
A slight highjack ahoy!
Ann Robinson (according to her own memoirs used to be a right slapper. She was an alcoholic and in her own words was always waking up in strange beds sans knickers.) So the quantity is certainly there. God alone knows about the quality.
Highjack over