‘Twere right lovely, ’twas – our few days in the Lake District, Cumbria. For some reason everyone speaks like that in t’North! Chris and I left Roland, our dear friend from Australia, to fend for himself and house-sit for us whilst we swanned off to visit our other friends, Janine and Stephen, in t’North (we’re right friendly like that in t’South, as Northerners know).

Strangely enough, the day before we left for t’North, while we were shopping for wine, orchids and sweets in our favourite Tesco store, and we had just reached the pasta section at the end of the first aisle, when a young man appeared suddenly in front of us. Now this young staff member (or “colleague” as we hear over the store Tannoy system) probably isn’t as young as he seems because he’s been working in the store for quite a few years and, truth to tell, he is retarded; however he is as bright as a button in the cheerful stakes, especially once he gets to know you. He always greets us with smiles and hellos, and he is often to be seen at the end of a checkout – he is usually the one who asks if you require help with packing.

I expect you’re wondering what was so funny about last Saturday. Well, this seemingly young chap has a very loud and high-pitched voice, and an accent from t’North, possibly Lancashire (which borders with the Lake District). Chris and I were huddling close together behind our trolley (we are very affectionate shoppers, as you may remember if you’re a regular to my blog) as we passed the racks of spaghetti, fettuccine and linguine when the happy fellow in question stepped in front of us, beamed and asked in a loud, high-pitched voice:

“Are you going to Glastonbury?”

Chris and I had to stop and think for a moment. We would be going close to Glastonbury on our way up t’North the next day but we wouldn’t be going to Glastonbury, and anyway, surely we’re a bit old for going to the music festival; and we didn’t go even when we where young; and it’s too muddy; and isn’t it on next weekend?

“No,” I answered.

“Are you going to Glastonbury?” asked Chris.

“No,” the Tesco colleague laughed, as if the idea was ridiculous.

Up t’North the next day Chris recounted the tale to our friend Stephen, who was as amused as we were. During the following three days of our stay that question – “Are you going to Glastonbury?” – was asked many times and always the answer would came back the same… “No, are you going to Glastonbury?” And everyone laughed. The men sounded so funny with their accents.

“Do you know what is even funnier?” Chris asked me when we were on our own.

“No, what?” I responded.

“Well, you know that Stephen is from Lancashire?” Chris asked (I nodded) and he continued, “When he asks ‘Are you going to Glastonbury?’, he does so in a Scottish accent!”

T’Northerners talk very funny.