intangible appeal

In the previous post I highlighted some of the places, features and events that have endeared London to me. I have now a shorter list of less tangible things that had largely the same effect. The items are not limited to London but can be enjoyed all over the United Kingdom, though I haven't ventured out to try that.

• Radio 4 – This is radio as it should be, and I listen to it daily. The Today program accompanies my breakfast with news and snappy weather, and the Shipping Forecast soothes all worries off me when I happen to catch it. Between them are culture, comedy, and quiz shows, all presented at the moderate pace of old. The sense, civility and humor that permeate Any Questions show what's great about Britain.
  The Archers supplies a daily quarter-hour of life in the countryside, with neighbors, farmers and quiet conflicts. With over 16,000 episodes, this is the world's longest-running soap opera, going strong since 1951 and forever true to its roots. The show seems to come from a different world and a different time. It's set in the West Midlands, but removed from the hectic life of London as it is, it might as well come from Middle Earth. I only listen to it occasionally and reluctantly, but I will probably still miss it.
  Radio 4 epitomizes so many quintessentially British traits. I've mentioned civility and humor above. More importantly, there's the sense of tradition and the strength that people draw from it. It seems that most of the shows on Radio 4 are at least half a century old. They've got woven into the fabric of society. People grew up with them on their parents' or grandparents' wireless. That consistency has created patterns without which few would want to do. Many regular listeners could probably not name the characters on the Archers, but the familiar chatter and the known voices are irreplaceable markers of the time of the day when professional obligations slip off and the private evening starts. Similarly, no one needs the Shipping Forecast and few can read sense in it, but the hypnotic code offers wordless comfort when the night is darkest.
• Aunty Beeb – I listen to one station only and don't have a TV, but the BBC is dear to me. They stand for sense in the media and for good programs, good programs that I can pick up on the iPlayer, an online repository of last week's shows, and throw on my wall. I've seen my share of documentaries and travels shows, Sherlock and Top Gear, all in ten feet of glorious HD, though lately I've missed more shows than I've watched thanks to a pressing lack of time.
• Top Gear – The mother of all motoring shows is now in its 18th series. You would think they can't possibly be funny anymore – it's not like they're the Simpsons or something – and you'd be wrong. Convulsed with laughter I watched an off-road wheelchair test in a Welch village earlier this season, followed by a race of said wheelchairs up a muddy hillside. The Top Gear boys were competing against a trio of army veterans that shared three legs and five arms among them. Needless to say, the veterans won.
  Top Gear has slow moments. Even some of the specials are disappointing, and there's no chance they'll ever reduplicate the sheer madness of the race to the North Pole or the authenticity of giving up high in the Andes, deprived of oxygen at 5000m and out of their wits. The slapdash hilarity of the Vietnam special, eight days on rickety motorcycles, braving the torrents of Ho Chi Minh traffic and later the monsoon, will forever stand as the pinnacle of adventure entertainment. But as long as the presenters stick to their routine of irreverence and self-deprecation and keep their creative team on powerful stimulants, there's no end to where they can go.
• Waitrose – I'm not much of a consumer and I have few favorite shops or brands. But wherever I'll go next, I'll miss the solidity and quality of Waitrose groceries, the quietly confident good looks of their stores, and the naturally friendly staff. Here's something I'm unlikely to say again soon: I like to go shopping there. Their pistachios are divine, and sometimes also their tomatoes.

The preceding list almost sums up that country outside the gates of London for me. And that's just as well. I moved to London, not the UK, and I've lived accordingly. There's not much time left when one lives London properly.