| November 12th, 2009 |
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Am tonight at the home of my uncle Ian in Wiltshire (as opposed to my great-uncle Ian, in Aberdeenshire). Will try for an early night tonight - tomorrow morning I mean to be off as early I can manage, so as to be sure to make my flight home.
I'm going hooooooome.
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Standing in a carpark at a pay-and-display ticket machine today, I heard a man behind me talking on his mobile phone. I thought he was speaking in a broad Northern accent; I've occasionally encountered people in England I struggle to understand.
As I finished getting my ticket and my attention was less engaged, I realised that he wasn't speaking English at all. My linguist's ear kicked in, and I identified the language as Cantonese.
Clearly, this is evidence of some kind of hideous, previously-unseen prejudice on my part.
I just can't work out who I'm prejudiced against.
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