Those Oh
so sexy
accents
Yew can 'ave 'er,
Oi don't want er,
'Er's too fat for Oi …
THE above is a rendition in the West Country of England dialect of the chorus of the Too Fat Polka, which was a hit of the 1940s that they were still singing in parts of England 30 years later.
One mentions it because, according to Sky News, the West Country accent – which I encountered during a spell in Blighty – comes fourth from bottom in a poll conducted by Big 7 Travel to discover the sexiest and most appealing of Britain's vast medley of regional accents.
Fourth from bottom out of 50 accents? I can't believe it. Why, just about every sentence in the West Country starts with the word "Aaaargh …" It's most appealing.
Which accent won? Why, sing-song Essex, as spouted by all those bottle blonde bimbos in their hotpants. Unbelievable.
Second was Northern Irish, an accent I knew well in all its moods, having been married to one for many years.
Third Glaswegian – Hey, the wee hardmen. "Awa' an' pachle yer heed, mon!"
And fourth – flourish of trumpets – Queen's English. Maritzburg rides again.
A spokesman for Big 7 Travel said: "There are very few other English-speaking countries with as many varieties of accent and language in such a small space, making the British Isles uniquely diverse when it comes to dialects."
Oh, I don't know about that. What about Isipingo English? Benoni English – "Bounce us a skyf, ek se!" Is there anything more expressive than "Eisssssh!" How about "Voetsek!" a part of everyday English in these parts?
West Country English fourth from bottom, beaten by the Scousers (Liverpool) and the Brummies (Birmingham). I still can't believe it. Maybe it serves 'em right for singing that old-fashioned, politically incorrect song.
Herefordshire
AAARGH. I first encountered West Country English in the depths of the Forest of Dean in Herefordshire, when a South African lass and I stopped off at a pub. The locals stared at us as if we'd just stepped off a spaceship.
When we spoke, an old fellow approached "Aaaargh. Yew be Polish?"
"No."
"French then?"
They couldn't believe our outlandish English was huistaal.
We mentioned this to our host at the village pub where we were staying. He laughed. "Oh, the Forest folk they do speak fonny. They don't says truppence, they says druppence."
The threepenny bit was to feature in another conversation in the bar of the same establishment. A friend and I were chatting.
Then an old fellow we hadn't noticed in the corner chimed in: "Aaaargh. Whaurr's yer tickeys? Whaurr's yer Zee to Zee?" (The tickey was the small silver threepenny bit of yesteryear. C to C was a brand of cigarette – Cape to Cairo).
We presumed he'd passed through Durban during World War II. So many of that generation had.
"No, Oi neverr bin to Durrban. Oi were in the Wezterrn Dezzerrt with yer boys."
Then he showed us his tobacco tin. Soldered onto it was a Natal Carbineers badge. My pal was a Carbineer. He just about freaked.
Aaargh. A small world it is to be sure. Even in the West Country.
Essex sexiest? Oi still can't believe it. Aaaargh!
Tailpiece
Don't you know the Queen's English?
Why, yes, I'd heard she was.
Last word
People who have what they want are fond of telling people who haven't what they want that they really don't want it.
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