I am in fact IN the British countryside; it could not be more British countryside than where I am. I don't think I've seen any aristocrats. There are a lot of people walking dogs and everyone is very nice. Last night we sat in a pub and there were some locals hanging out and there was an older fellow who we couldn't understand a single word he said.
Silicon Valley used to be just the same in the 90s; millionaire tech dudes look like slobs in cargo shorts, not like Millionaires. My husband, not a millionaire, is still wearing cargo shorts.
If you had a middle-class English upbringing, one of the things your mum whispered to you was this phenomenon of the scruffy landowner: if you ever go to a country house, don’t expect the Lord and Lady to look all “Cluedo” but look out for people who look like they might be elderly gardeners. But maybe my mum heard about it from ATGB?
Eventually I met one such character. The thing that struck me most forcefully was that he spoke unbelievably slowly, in this sing-song way, like a vicar trying to take as long as possible over a prayer. This was a man who had no reason to hurry. He was terribly nice, but there was no getting round the fact that all the surrounding villages belonged to him.
I am in fact IN the British countryside; it could not be more British countryside than where I am. I don't think I've seen any aristocrats. There are a lot of people walking dogs and everyone is very nice. Last night we sat in a pub and there were some locals hanging out and there was an older fellow who we couldn't understand a single word he said.
Silicon Valley used to be just the same in the 90s; millionaire tech dudes look like slobs in cargo shorts, not like Millionaires. My husband, not a millionaire, is still wearing cargo shorts.
If you had a middle-class English upbringing, one of the things your mum whispered to you was this phenomenon of the scruffy landowner: if you ever go to a country house, don’t expect the Lord and Lady to look all “Cluedo” but look out for people who look like they might be elderly gardeners. But maybe my mum heard about it from ATGB?
Eventually I met one such character. The thing that struck me most forcefully was that he spoke unbelievably slowly, in this sing-song way, like a vicar trying to take as long as possible over a prayer. This was a man who had no reason to hurry. He was terribly nice, but there was no getting round the fact that all the surrounding villages belonged to him.