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Happy Bastille Day to all my French friends! Liam banked some of his birthday money this morning... he has more money than I do! While he was at the bank, he took the opportunity to apply for a cash card (ATM card for our North American cousins) - now that he's 13 he's allowed one. It will be interesting seeing how he manages with it. After an interminable wait in the bank as they filled in the various forms necessary for the provision of the cash card, we set off for the supermarket. Liam had kept £50 for spending, and it was burning a hole in his pocket. In the end, he bought three DVDs (one for his Mum) and a PS2 game. He even treated me to a cup of frothy coffee in the Tesco cafe. We still had an errand to run, as I had to go to my bank to pay a bill. On the way, we went for a short walk up the Miley (our local urban wildlife reserve) - the first time I had been there in over a year. As usual, there was a large queue at the bank. The customer service in the bank that used to be 'A friend for life' has certainly deteriorated since it was taken over by the Halifax. While we were waiting, a bank employee with a northern English accent came over to me and said something that was completely incomprehensible to me. Since I couldn't make out what she was saying, I politely asked her to repeat it. Second time round was no better, so I just shrugged my shoulder and shook my head... Then she asked me something else. Again, I didn't understand a word, so this time I just said 'yes'. She waited for me to do something. I waited in the queue, trying to avoid eye contact with her. Then she said something else - this time she spoke more slowly and I managed to catch the words 'queue', 'express deposit', 'envelope' and 'cashier'. I surmised that she was telling me that I did not need to queue if I filled in an express deposit slip, put it and the money in the envelop and posted it in the letter box next to the cashiers. I said that I needed to speak to the cashier. With that, she gave me a strange look and moved on to the next person. It was then that I got to thinking about the many British accents there are, and how they are perceived around the country. A few years ago, BBC Scotland produced an often hilarious sitcom about an unemployed Glaswegian and his family. The show was broadcast in England... with subtitles! The characters spoke in a faux-working class Glasgow accent, which was not difficult at all to understand - although I do appreciate that those not used to hearing a Glasgow accent would have to make a bit of an effort. A bit like we have to do when faced with programmes set in Newcastle, Liverpool, Manchester, east London, Essex, Birmingham, etc. These accents can be just as difficult for us to understand as ours is to them... yet Eastenders and Coronation Street aren't subtitled up here, and neither was Brookside when it was on the go. On the same subject, I noticed that an American TV station has purchased BBC Scotland's children's TV programme, Balamory, which they intend to broadcast with dubbed American voices because, they say, the Scottish accents will 'confuse children'. Sesame Street and Barney (that horrible sugar-sweet purple dinosaur that make you want to hit it!) are broadcast here in the original... Wait... maybe that's why British kids use so many Americanisms (a pet hate of mine). Maybe we should start dubbing American programmes and films into British voices after all!! Toodlepip, old cheps!

Liam's gang were in town last year