Paris to London.
From le pout to the stiff upper lip.
From chic to cheeky.
Paris and London are separated by 500 kilometers and bookloads of history. Like all of the countries in Europe, France and England have so much history they can’t put all of it in museums. They leave it out in the streets. Everywhere you go, and even the places you don’t, there is some piece of history sitting out in the elements, usually covered in pigeons or pigeon paint.
France and Britain both sprung from those mathematically-inclined Germanic tribes, who traveled around dividing Europe into one kingdom after another. The Franks settled the area now called France. (If you couldn’t help yourself and made cheap puns every chance you got, you might say it took a lot of Gaul to do that. If you were incorrigible, you might even say they built their kingdom with Gaul stones.)
Although the Franks were warriors and conquerors, as early as the 5th century, Saint Sidonius Appolinaris described them this way:
Their faces are shaven all round, and instead of beards they have thin moustaches, which they run through with a comb. Close fitting garments confine the tall limbs of the men, they are drawn up high so as to expose the knees, and a broad belt supports their narrow middle.
Even then, fashion mattered. Now, of course, the Parisians walk around in that insouciant way they have; the men smelling of debonair, and all the women looking like current or former ballerinas, wearing their casual sweaters and ballet slippers, with their red pouty lips licking Berthillon ice cream with aplomb (probably French for ‘tongue’).
Two hours away, Britain was overrun by Anglos, the hyphenated ones who put the ‘ax’ in Saxon and every head that got in their way. Fierce. Serious. Stoic. In 1066 the Normans (Frank and Viking mix) made the trip across the channel, axed the Anglo-Saxons and taught them multi-syllable words. Eventually the Normans assimilated and declared themselves English, so one wonders who conquered whom. The rest of the Franks stayed home, elected a King and realized they couldn’t be bothered with conquering and ruling the world; they had wine to drink, chocolate to eat, bread to butter, cheese to cut, followed by perfume, lots of it, and fashion to flaunt. Now they are the home of haute couture, haute cuisine, and haute dogs (poodles). Being haute is what makes them so cool.
Paris is for lovers; London is for raincoats.
I don’t mean to imply that one is better than the other. I would be happy to live in either place. Everywhere you looked in Paris, you saw lovers, and we really did need raincoats and umbrellas in London. But let’s be frank, or if you’re like me, let’s not be Frank because we aren’t. France, Paris in particular, represents culture and refinement. For an American like me, going to England/Britain/Great Britain/the United Kingdom/God Save the Queen! is like going home except that you don’t live there anymore and strange people are living in your house now. And they speak with an accent.

Sign of the Thames
(We were in London the week before the Queen’s Jubilee and saw this on the riverboat ride down the Thames.)
But how can you not love a country that puts bonnets on their cars and eats scones with clotted cream? No wonder the British almost conquered the world. After eating scones almost every day I was there, I began to doubt I would have been on the side of the American colonists during the Revolutionary War. (All that fuss over taxation without representation and look at us now: taxed while our representatives represent themselves, or if you were lucky enough to be born a corporation, representation without taxation.)
And now that I mentioned eating all of those scones, I know you are dying to ask: Did you gain a lot of pounds in England? Yes, I gained a lot at the train station when we first arrived, and it pained me to see them melt away so quickly. Unlike in America, in England, having a lot of pounds is a good thing.
Next installment: We travel in a Tube
(Note to readers: I may have omitted a few details in the history of France and England. I won’t tell if you won’t.)
“Building their kingdom with Gaul stones”. LOL.
Thanks for understanding I can’t help myself.
I love the puns you used… Now, am gonna try how to lick ice cream with aplomb, haha.
Do I have to pout first? 😉
Pouting is optional.
I see… lemme get back to the job at hand. will need the help of Google images, lol. 😉 hello and regards, ms. yearstricken…
damn that scone looks good!
I ate lots of them with lots of butter; something I never do at home. That’s why vacations are so much fun.
I plan to quote your “representation without taxation” line—brilliant. Very enjoyable post overall, as everall.
I’ve been working on some political slogans in preparation for the upcoming election. 🙂
Thames some mighty fine words you said.
It really looks like it should rhyme with James, doesn’t it?
I really do like your travel posts a lot. I was very taken by the picture of the scone as I have a serious scone ‘addiction’ and I am now struggling to resist the urge to take one out of the freezer and pop it in the oven to have as a late evening snack. I am looking forward to hearing your views on ‘the tube’.
I’m glad you like the travel posts. I could eat scones every day; it’s probably a mercy that I don’t have easy access to them.
Ah, yes, you can hardly avoid all of the history. So fascinating. And so much of it. As to the scones, they are almost as wonderful as the croissants in France and the gelato of Italy. Let’s try all of them and decide which is best….it may take several samples of each!
Food is such a big part of every culture, I felt as if each scone was a cultural experience, almost equivalent to going to museums.
I am thoroughly enjoying your vacation. And London, even in the rain, is one of the most wonderful cities on the planet. And they speak English. Sort of.
I did love being in London, and like so many Americans, I am a sucker for those posh English accents.
I do enjoy your wordplay. And oh, how I want to eat the scone in that photo! I look forward to your next post. I was fortunate to spend a semester in London when I was a college student, and “The Tube” was such a big part of our daily life!
I’m glad you like the wordplay. You were fortunate to spend a semester there. I like using public transportation to get around in a city and the attendant exercise you get walking there and climbing stairs.
Scones. Worth a pound–either way you look at it!
Absolutely. From the handbag to the hip in no time.
Now I want a scone and some clotted cream. I haven’t had either in ages. YS, you are amazing— once again, you manage to be breezy and informational at the same time. I love that quality about your writing. It’s v. hard to do well, and you make it look easy, which I admire a great deal.
I had such great scones both in England and Ireland. A scone, clotted cream, jam, and tea. Yum!
Thanks so much for reading, Courtenay.
Thank you for writing these, YS. Dang, now I want scones and clotted cream again. So dangerous!
I am just so excited to see that you get to visit my all time favourite city, London. (We were incredibly lucky to have lived in England for two years.) Scones and clotted cream – a delicious way to put on a ‘stone’ or two.
You were incredibly lucky to have lived in England. You must have discovered all kinds of amazing places. Plus I bet you learned British English. 🙂
Honestly, YS, I think your Armour-style encapsulation of history is as compelling as, and probably far more accurate than, any I’ve come across before. Details, schmeetails! Not everything that happened is probably relevant anyway.
I think a lot of the history of early Europe could be summed up in “conquer, divide, reconquer, redivide, etc.”