I have been thinking about England incessantly to the point that I am fanatically reading Marian Keyes just to feel like I am in London again. The fact that her stories are based in Dublin means nothing to me. And yesterday I bought a DVD of Keeping Mum and during the 5-second preview, I actually gave heartfelt sigh at the sight of a bramble bush. There are no bramble bushes in KL. No kidding.
It has been more than 5 years since I breathed British smog and naturally I still harbour an obsession for the place.
I suppose I will always have fond memories of the UK. They represent halcyon days of glorious Christmas vacations, pork pies, Richard and Judy, bored sheep and owners of garden centres with striking blue eyes. (ehem, I digress)
Those were The Best Times of my life when all I had to worry was how to pass exams without dying. I miss my Sainsbury's with as much passion as the next pensioner. OF course there were prats and sneaks and racist bigots but they have no place in my syrupy daydreams.
It a place where people lines up for their cab, says thank you to bus drivers, calls me love after a purchase of mushrooms, and make walking home from a pub akin to a night safari.
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