One of the things that is so refreshing about France is that they don't treat people like they are a bunch of morons. There are no signs up telling us the sidewalk may be wet when it rains. There are no railings along the banks of the Seine, and I've never heard of anyone falling in. The playgrounds still have metal slides, merry-go-rounds and high play structures. You pretty much do things at your own risk and are responsible for taking care of yourself as we used to be in the U.S.
England, on the other hand, seems to have taken an even stronger turn towards warnings for morons than in the U.S. The first one was in the St. Pancras train station. The elevator talked to us and told us that the doors were closing and opening, as if we couldn't figure that out on our own. I wondered who would actually pay for such an "invention." Seriously, even a blind person can hear the doors open and close and feel the elevator come to a stop. We found this guidance mechanism to be installed in many of the elevators we rode in England. Unfortunately, it only told us that the doors were opening and closing, not which floor we were on.
The second helpful bit of advice was at the British Museum. We decided to rent the audio guides for added fun. The first stop was the Rosetta Stone. The guide kindly told us that if we didn't see writing on the stone, we should walk around to the other side. (As a side note, don't bother renting the audio guides there. Besides their helpful advice, they pretty much read what the signs say next to the exhibits. If you can read English, it is a waste because the signs give a lot of information, unlike in French museums.)
My favorite, however, was at the restaurant at the St. Pancras Hotel. We asked the waiter if we could take the rest of Elizabeth's sandwich up to the room. He said he'd prepare a doggie bag. Several minutes later, the manager of the restaurant returned with a little box and a paper and pen. She asked us to sign the paper to take the food out of the restaurant. It was a waiver warning us that the food might spoil and waiving the right for us to sue them for damages if we got sick from eating spoiled food. We later asked our English friends if this was normal. They said that some restaurants won't let you take food out for liability reasons and they are especially concerned about rice spoiling. I have no idea why. Maybe they are afraid of the foreign substance? It's not bread or biscuits and they don't know how to handle it?
And then there are the electrical outlets. They all have switches on them to turn the power off when you are not using them. (We do have baby proof options for outlets in America, but if you don’t have a baby, you don’t use them. In England, it seems that even adults can’t be trusted not to electrocute themselves.) The maid in the hotel kept turning our outlets off when she came in and we ended up with uncharged phones some mornings as a result. Another precaution that the English take is banning electrical outlets in the bathrooms. If you want to dry your hair, you have to do it somewhere else. In America, the large tags warning you not to blow dry your hair in the bathtub seem like overkill, but I’ve since learned that we are only moderately protective of our populace.
Despite the dangers, we loved so many things about England. First, let's compare the bathrooms (or "toilets" as they call them). Yes, they have them everywhere and they are clean and spacious, unlike in France. Even better, every toilet we went to had a hook for your purse. And they have hot water to wash your hands! In France, there is usually only cold, even in the toilet room in our apartment.
English people are such a delight to be around. They smile (not pout), offer customer service everywhere you go (not ignore you) and give you tap water when you ask for it (not ignore you). They don't shove you out of the way to get by, which was particularly helpful when I was still hobbling around in the boot. In fact, people got out of the way when they saw me coming. They say "sorry" if they do happen to bump into you or pretty much do anything that might even remotely interfere with your personal pleasure and even when it won't.
One of my favorite things in England was watching the news on the Children's BBC TV station. I was so pleasantly surprised that English people think it is appropriate for kids to be aware of the world. (The French people do too, but I haven't seen kids' news. They watch the regular news with the adults.) The CBBC news presented a subset of the same stories the adult BBC news did for that day. That day, three English soldier's had been killed in Afghanistan. On the kids’ news, they explained what had happened and why the British were at war with Afghanistan in a way that was approachable to children yet not at all dummed down.
I remember when Elizabeth was eight and in second grade. A nanny for one of her classmates said that they weren't allowed to use the word "kill" in their household. I asked how they explained what war was. She said they were way too young to know about that, with a look like I was a cretin or something. I wondered how they avoided letting their kids know what war was when we were in the middle of a couple at the time and that our country was founded as the result of one that we celebrate once a year.
Some of the other wonderful conveniences that England offers include available taxis in London no matter where you are and gluten-free food everywhere—a stark contrast from Paris. I put on several pounds this week eating cake nearly every day. There was gluten-free carrot cake at the museum in Doncaster, gluten-free chocolate cake at the famous Betty's Tea Room in York, gluten-free pecan pie at the chain restaurant Leon's (located all over England), gluten-free scones at high tea at the Connaught Hotel in London, and so much more. We even managed to throw in a couple of gluten-free treats at American places, like GF brownies at Starbucks and GF pizza at Pizza Hut. Today I'm on a strict diet and budget after eating and spending so much money for the past week! (And we thought Paris was expensive.)
I almost forgot our other notable French connection in England. On the day we arrived, not one, but several people asked us where we had come from. When we said Paris, they immediately asked how the weather was there and said that Paris always had the best weather. We looked at them like they were speaking Russian. How sad, we thought, if they think that Paris weather is good!
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