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there are plenty about us though, I'm sure - the English seem to come across as complete prudes who are interested only in cricket and the weather; a nation that wears a disturbing and suspicious propensity (is that even the right word?) of tweed...
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Oh yes. I'm more stereotypical than most, making my way to work with my bowler hat firmly placed upon my head, a neatly furled umbrella under one arm, a copy of the Daily Telegraph under the other. I may be looking forward to the tea trolley coming round, and maybe I will treat myself to a scone while I peruse the cricket results. Well, this is the way I am, according to the media...Oh so untrue...apart from the scone...
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(Stranraer being a very strange little village on the Scottish coast that always seems dead and has a whiff of goats and the sort of relationships found in Jacobean tragedies).
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I like Stranraer. Everything you say about is true, but I still like it. It reminded me of something from Father Ted, especially the villages thereabouts - where the Wicker Man was filmed; and it is close to the old hangout of the Sawney Beans, Scotland's very own serial killer cannibal family.
Well worth googling for that particular tale. I once saw someone in Stranraer eating a deep fried Mars Bar with chips and was nearly ill.