Yes. It is a real thing, and nearly 4 years down the line I still haven’t got a sodding clue what they’re saying a solid 60% of the time.

Here’s a list of words we city folk can relate to:

• Cocktails
• Dim Sum
• Krispy Kreme
• Night Tube
• Oyster Card

I’m telling you now, say the word Dim Sum to a farmer and they’ll throw you a look with the blankest expression you have ever witnessed. Start talking to them about night tubes and they think you’re on about some new toy from Anne Summers…

In contrast, here is a list of words that bumpkins understand, particularly the Wiltshire ilk:

• Hunt Ball
• Somewhen
• Tractor
• Cheese Festival

Somewhen?!? THAT’S NOT EVEN A WORD!!!!

I was literally reeling with a mixture of confusion, horror and disgust when someone first used this term. It properly threw me, I legitimately did not have a scooby-doo what the man was on about.

Let me put it into context for you…

Gareth: “we’ll go to there somewhen”

Me: “wait, what? That makes no sense we’ll go there somewhere? What does that even mean?”

Gareth: “No, somewhen“

Me: “I’m sorry. What? Some…when??”

Gareth: “Yes”

Me: “When??”

Gareth: “Yes”

Me: “So you mean like, ‘at some point’?”

Gareth: “Yes. How is this so difficult to understand??”

Me: “Because it’s not a word! Why would you say that?? Why wouldn’t you just say ‘at some point?’

Gareth: “Why not?”

Me: “Because ‘at some point’ makes sense!!!! Somewhen most definitely does not make sense, it is a totally made up, non-word!!!!!!”

Turns out, according to Wiltshire bumpkins it is definitely a word, equally so is ‘anywhen’…don’t even get me started on that one. Fuming.

Likewise, according to bumpkins, their idea of a good day out is a cheese festival. Yes, that’s right, a whole festival dedicated to cheese. Not a little artisan market down the side of London Bridge (aka Borough Market to the non-Londoners who haven’t got a clue what I’m talking about) but a full-blown festival in a field, all about cheese.

Don’t get me wrong, I love me some cheese, but a whole day. In a field. Looking at cheese? That’s a bit much. But don’t panic, I soon found out when I was dragged there last year that there are also cow and sheep judging competitions, tractors on display and farm machinery to buy…calm the f**k down people!! Fun day out my arse. These people need to get themselves down to Covent Garden on a Saturday. Pronto.

Honestly, never has my unrelatable life been more apparent than when I’m sat at a hunt or farmer’s ball and have nothing in common with the people either side of me, or in the office when I start suggesting to them that apparently ‘somewhen’ is a word. I’m a nomad in either situation!

So I find myself misunderstood by a significant proportion of people I happen to spend my life with. Which is not a circumstance I ever thought I would find myself in given my extremely articulate and overly verbal life! Hence the point of this blog I guess…?

Don’t worry too much about me at those balls though, I just start talking about night tubes and enjoy the looks of horror stricken confusion on their faces…

Until next time!