Yesterday a very remarkable thing happened, the sun shone and it didn’t rain. Well, not until later in the day. Like most Brits, I tend to hibernate throughout the winter months. Going out inevitably entails getting cold and wet and journeys outside of the house tend to be limited to those strictly necessary for living. Therefore, when the big yellow thing in the sky finally makes an appearance, I, along with millions of other Brits, emerge from our hidey-holes to ‘go for a walk.’

In most parts of the world, this simple act appears to be without hazard, but for the British ‘going for a walk’ requires having to interact with strangers. Not something that the average British person is good at, particularly after a long winter when we are out of practice. I should say in our defence that we are not unfriendly but being an island race we do have a well-developed sense of personal space. My German wife finds it hilarious that the British can see the same people on the train every morning and not know who they are, what they do, what their wives/husbands do for a living, where the children go to school and what illnesses they have experienced. We British are reserved. We have no wish to impose on others or have them impose on us. Nevertheless after a decent interval, say ten years, we might bid a good morning to our fellow human beings. We might even ask how they are as long as they have the good sense not to actually tell us.