take me to … the hilton

The tourists have arrived, even if the weather hasn’t.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have a clue where the Hilton was, to direct the middle aged couple who’d driven off their map.

This was in stark contrast to last week’s encounter with a couple of Australians who asked, ‘You girls local?’ in an accent so strong that the person I was with didn’t realise they were speaking English. Apart from that, it was no problem to direct them to the local laundrette …


One thought on “take me to … the hilton

  1. I know this is an old post that I am reading here in the wee hours of Monday but it gave me fond reminiscience (sp?) of my years in Scotland…I was often taken for Canadian (no explanation though sadly I took that as a compliment) and on occasion asked if I was an Aussie. Once a blind man on an airplane asked me if my parents were Brittish (which made me wonder if my accent had truly crossed over into the land of “affected” speech ala “Madonna”)

    I smile remembering the times folk would pull over on Byres Rd and ask me for directions only to argue afterwards if they could possibly trust a yank to know where Hillhead station was or anything else.

    And lastly, my Scalpa friend Seonag would sometimes speak english so quickly or with such a heavy accent I’d pause and think “Did she switch to Gaelic on me?” (She often spoke Gaelic to me, as I was taking it as my third at Uni) it’s amazing how the mind has to make these split second decisions to comprehend….not that I know anything about how that works…but I know you do. Love your blog dear one. Oh and as an aside, there are plenty of moral Americans who are against waterboarding. Hubby and I being two of them.


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