Nine Lessons

It’s an early Wednesday post as I'll be spending most of the day travelling home. It’s also a rather humble post after what has been a very sobering holiday. Over the last few days, I’ve discovered much about myself that I’m not totally happy with. Gabby has impressed on me the importance of my taking these lessons back with me to Bangor so I might start to become a better person. She's even gone so far as make me write out a list of mistakes I've made.

1. I should be more open to people who wear cagoules.
2. A man isn’t funny when he walks into the country’s biggest gingerbread shop and asks to see the red-headed manager’s ginger nuts.
3. Alfred Wainwright did not write a guidebook for naturists.
4. Intelligent people don’t find my songs about William and Dorothy Wordsworth funny.
5. I shouldn’t kick the heads off daffodils just to make a point about poetry.
6. People don’t yodel in the Lake District.
7. A sprained ankle doesn’t get better within a couple of hours unless it was an ‘imaginary’ sprained ankle.
8. Locals don’t warm to Welshmen who keep suggesting that Kendal mintcake would be tastier if it were called Felicity Kendal mintcake.
9. And finally, there’s a limit to what even the most open minded landlord will tolerate and this doesn’t include remarks about Cumbria being the UK’s incest capital.

And to think I never once had chance to make a joke about locals worrying sheep despite it being one of the rare occasions when a Welshman has this advantage over the English.