When my children were very little and we'd been living in a non-English-speaking country for a while, we went back home to Australia. Our littlest called to her sister in extreme excitement when the telly was switched on:
"Come quickly, come quickly, they're speaking English!" she cried.
I understand how she felt, in the sense that it is exciting, when you've been in a country where you are forever trying to learn the local language but never quite succeeding, to take a break and be surrounded by people you can understand.
For instance, in a cafe I overheard a young woman at the table beside mine say, "I loved him." My ears pricked up, eager to hear a long romantic epic.
"In that BBC series", she went on.
Oh.
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