English is full of booby traps for the unwary foreigner. Any language where the unassuming word fly signifies an annoying insect, a means of travel, and a critical part of a gentleman's apparel is clearly asking to be mangled.

There is the odd exception, like Albert Einstein, but as a breed, scientists tend not be very good at presenting themselves.

I can't think of anything that excites a greater sense of childlike wonder than to be in a country where you are ignorant of almost everything.

Romans park their cars the way I would park if I had just spilled a beaker of hydrochloric acid on my lap.

Britain still has the most reliably beautiful countryside of anywhere in the world. I would hate to be part of the generation that allowed that to be lost.

In a funny way, nothing makes you feel more like a native of your own country than to live where nearly everyone is not.

My first rule of travel is never to go to a place that sounds like a medical condition and Critz is clearly an incurable disease involving flaking skin.