It dawned on me the moment we arrived. At the beginning of the year, we moved our family from radiant, familiar Australia to gelid, obscure England. I craved just a tiny sliver of normalcy at a time when I had little control of things in my life. All I wanted to do was walk on the left. Access, denied. Pedestrians of Yorkshire, you irk me (even more so than the dampness). Your indecision to choose a side upon which to walk creates grim murmurs poised to shoot arrows from my lips.
You drive on the left. You should walk on the left.
Sure you may try to assert your multi-cultural, multi-generational stance. But seriously, people in California walk on the right (when they are out sans car generally along the beach). They drive on the right. They walk on the right. People in Sydney drive on the left. That’s actually where I learned that there was a natural order and flow of things. After bumping unlucky heads and unsuspecting arms, I realised they swim on the left (sorry my medium, sometimes slow lane peeps). Drive on the left, swim on the left, walk on the left. Done and done.
Sure George, John, Paul and Ringo walk in the centre (as depicted above). But you ain’t the Beatles and you drive on the left. Stroll along on the left. Pass on the right. Don’t make me swerve my pram left and right just to avoid your confusion. Please. Just walk this way.