Narrow escape, or what? On our travels last weekend we brought some Marmite. As luck would have it we didn’t go to Denmark, so were perfectly safe from the new Danish ban on Marmite.
You have to admire those Danes! Who’d have thought of banning something so superficially innocent? It clearly isn’t, though, and personally I have banned it from my diet. Not having much success in preventing it entering the house, though, and I suppose I have to let the Resident IT Consultant continue eating what he was brought up on. Or do I? The Oxford Professor cousin has the fondest memories of visiting as a child and marvelling over the vast Marmite tubs his IT Consultant cousin had daily access to.
(As for me, I’m not so much xenophobic, as careful around migraine triggers, and surely that’s what the Danes are also concerned with?)
We flew Germanwings with our Marmite and home again. On the return trip we decided to splash out on a hot drink each, so when the trolley came round the witch asked for ‘two teas, please’.
‘Black?’ said trolley-woman.
Now, dear reader, what would you have said at this point in the conversation?
I said ‘with milk, please.’ Except it turned out that the choice was between black tea and green tea.
And anyone but me would have seen the end result coming from miles away. Once the green tea had been dismissed, the ‘milk, please’ plea delivered cream tea. That’s cream tea as in cream in the tea, not on top of a non-existent freshly made scone with jam.
They wanted €2.50 – each – for ruining our teas.
Here is our Marmite-loving host’s lovely dog, Gypsy. She’s an English-speaking dog, so I’m certain that should she have offered us tea it would have come with milk. She is larger than 25 paperbacks, which is why she is still in Germany and not here at Bookwitch Towers.