I have a keen dislike for Bank Holiday weekends. For starters, I have to say that I think the Australian term for having an official nation-wide ‘day off’ from work is far more accurate than the British term. We Aussies refer to these blessed days as ‘Public Holidays’, because that’s exactly what they are - a holiday for the public. The Brits, however, refer to such days as ‘Bank Holidays’, a term which harks back to week days when the banks stayed closed. Let’s face it, it’s not just a ‘Bank Holiday’ anymore is it? And why, when I refer to these holidays as ‘Public Holidays’, must I be subjected to strange looks? It’s pretty obvious what I’m referring to. Plenty of Australians would understand what a ‘Bank Holiday’ is, so why must the cultural acceptance only go one way?

My second reason for disliking Bank Holiday weekends is that they seem to bring out the worst in everyone. Take, for example, our local pub quiz. A typical Sunday night in North Wales is spent at our favourite dive of a pub where we participate in the world’s easiest (and best) pub quiz. The girls in our team are expected to charm Quiz Master Dave into giving away answers, and it’s not at all surprising if a piece of pub furniture gets broken by some drunken lout falling on top of it. Unfortunately, Bank Holiday weekends ruin this tradition for us - every man and his dog turns up at the pub to ‘have a go’ at the quiz whilst getting rip-roaring drunk, and quiz team names such as ‘We’re Shit and We Know We Are’ are some of the more sanitary of the selection. There’s basically no point in going to the quiz on a Sunday night that falls before a Bank Holiday, and thus we lose the opportunity to win two bottles of cheap wine.

Another example of Bank Holidays turning people into evil shadows of their normal selves can be seen in the typical family weekend. Usually, spending two days together on a normal weekend is just enough time to make you wish that Monday would come around just that little bit quicker, sending you back to work and away from the interrogations about what you’re doing with your life and how much your job is paying you. Unfortunately, Bank Holiday weekends are that extra bit longer, so that by the time you get to Monday night you’re near suicidal and doubting everything you’ve ever hoped and dreamed about. Guns don’t kill people, Bank Holidays do.

And so, in closing, I would like to suggest that all Bank Holidays from now on be scheduled in the middle of the working week, be renamed ‘Public Holidays’, and be spent far far away from anyone who may cause your blood pressure to rise. If this cannot be accomplished, I think the least the government could do would be to designate a few dozen bottles of top quality red wine to each household within the UK for consumption every Bank Holiday weekend. That’d be sure to win Labour the next election!

One of the things that never fails to cause an argument in my house is what words are used to describe certain objects. Terminology is a funny thing - even if you understand the word the other person uses to refer to an object or item, you still will only use the word you’re used to. Take the terms used to describe cold fried sliced potato - chips or crisps. Rob calls them ‘crisps’, because he was brought up in the UK. I call them chips, but so does my friend Kate, who was born in the UK but emigrated to Australia when she was quite young. Interestingly, Kate still pronounces the word yoghurt as ‘YOH-git’ (the British pronunciation) instead of ‘YOW-gert’ (the Australian pronunciation), so I’m not sure why she’s evolved in some of her terms and not others.

I got to thinking about these funny differences after reading a survey Sarah had filled out. Here’s the meme in question, with my answers and Rob’s answers filled in so you can see the differences:

Where did you grow up: South Australia, Northern Territory, Queensland, Australia (Amy); Wales, UK (Rob).

WHAT DO YOU CALL:

1. A body of water, smaller than a river, contained within relatively narrow banks.
Creek (Amy), Stream (Rob).

2. Whats the thing you push around the grocery store is called.
Trolley (both).

3. A metal container to carry a meal in.
Lunchbox (both).

4. The thing that you cook bacon and eggs in.
Frying pan (both).

5. The piece of furniture that seats three people.
Lounge or couch (Amy), settee (Rob).

6. The device on the outside of the house that carries rain off the roof.
Drain (Amy), gutter (Rob).

7. The covered area outside a house where people sit in the evening.
Pergola (Amy), gazebo (Rob).

8. Carbonated, sweetened, non-alcoholic beverages.
Soft drink (both).

9. A flat, round breakfast food served with syrup.
Pancakes (both).

10. A long sandwich designed to be a whole meal in itself.
Sub (Amy), baguette (Rob).

11. The piece of clothing worn by men at the beach.
Bathers or togs (Amy, swimming trunks (Rob).

12. Shoes worn for sports.
Sneakers (Amy), trainers (Rob).

13. Putting a room in order.
Tidying up (both).

14. A flying insect that glows in the dark.
Firefly (both).

15.The children’s playground equipment where one kid sits on one side and goes up while the other sits on the other side and goes down.
See-saw (both).

16. How do you eat your pizza?
With hands (Amy), knife and fork (Rob).

17. What’s it called when private citizens put up signs and sell their used stuff?
Garage sale (both).

18. What’s the evening meal?
Tea (Amy), dinner (Rob).

19. What do you call the thing that you can get water out of to drink in public places?
Bubbler (Amy), water fountain (Rob).

20. What do you call the clothing covering for legs worn on the outside?
Pants (Amy), trousers (Rob).

As you can see, there are some similarities but some key differences.  Did anyone else come up with any different answers as they were reading these?  Do you strongly disagree or agree with the answers Rob and I have put?

One thing I just don’t understand about the UK is the fascination most Brits seem to have with preparing fish and chips in a way that makes the dish basically inedible.  Above you can see two versions of the classic take-away food - on the left is the UK variety, on the right, the Australian.  Notice that the UK version of fish and chips entails frying the chips until they’re soft and soggy with oil, and coating the fish in a crunchy oily batter.  Usually, the fish underneath the batter is fried into near-nonexistence.  The Australian version, on the other hand, is lightly battered and fried fish that almost comes out as a tempura, and chips that are crisp and retain their shape.  I don’t know about you, but I know which version I’d prefer.

The other thing I can’t grasp about the British fish and chips is that they won’t eat it with lemon juice, aioli or tartare.  These are all flavours that compliment the fish and cut through whatever oil or fat is left, so it makes sense to have them as accompaniments.  Instead, the Brits like their fish and chips with mushy peas (essentially, squished up nuclear-waste coloured pea paste) and curry sauce.  Why?  I still don’t understand it.  When I asked Rob he said, ‘It’s tradition… even I prefer the Australian way of preparing fish and chips, but it’s just the way it’s done in the UK.’

I think Jamie Oliver’s next task - after he’s saved school dinners, chickens, and got the UK cooking war-time recipes - should be to give the UK version of fish and chips a makeover.  I’ve gotten to the point where I just refuse to eat fish and chips in the UK, and that’s never a good thing.