It is a running joke that all British people have a London accent, attend afternoon tea on a daily basis and wear beefeater costumes. Is it any wonder that people think we’re just a bunch of toffs when the birth of the #ROYALBABY has dominated TV, newspapers and the internet for days?
Don’t get me wrong, I can be patriotic when I want to be, especially when it comes to the military. That said, I couldn’t care less about the existence of a new baby who is third in line to the throne. My reason being? The monarchy does nothing for me, literally.
I hate the way that people are automatically branded ‘less British’ if they don’t jump up and down at the very thought of a royal partay. I can understand the importance that some of these events might have to older generations, but people my own age? I just don’t get it.
Today I visited Bridlington, a seaside town in East Yorkshire. It is delightfully run-down and I hold extremely fond, personal memories of it. I grew up going to places like Bridlington and in 15+ years most of these places have barely changed; the people, the shops, the sights, everything.
In my opinion, it’s places like Bridlington that really represent ‘the British way of life’, albeit one that’s covered in seagull shit. I would encourage any tourists coming over here to swap queueing up at packed-out royal palaces for ice cream, slot machines and molestation at the hands of hungry sea birds… At the very least they’d get a good laugh out of it!
Here are some of my favourite images from today: