There’s absolutely nothing wrong with sticking close to home, of course.
Still, every now and then, you’ll come across someone whose view of the world is, well… extremely British. And not just British—local, narrow, proudly unaware of what lies beyond Greggs and the M6. From cultural assumptions to culinary confusion, here are 13 lovingly playful signs someone’s never actually left the country—and honestly, we wouldn’t change them for the world.
1. They think a heatwave is 23 degrees.
If they’re frantically searching for a fan the minute it hits 22.5 °C, and declaring it “too hot to function,” it’s a solid giveaway. They’ll say “scorching” with a straight face while still wearing jeans and socks indoors.
They’ve never experienced a summer where your flip-flops melt onto the pavement or air conditioning is a daily human right. For them, sweating through a British summer means closing the curtains and moaning about hosepipe bans by lunchtime.
2. Garlic bread still counts as exotic.
You suggest Thai, Mexican, or something involving a spice level beyond “mild,” and they’re blinking like you’ve just asked them to eat fire. “Ooh, a bit spicy for me,” they’ll say, while pushing aside a tikka masala with visible concern. Their go-to treat is garlic bread and a prawn cocktail. If you really want to push their culinary limits, mention sushi and watch them panic. Foreign food, to them, is anything not served at a Toby Carvery.
3. They call every European destination “abroad.”
They don’t say “Spain” or “Italy.” It’s just “abroad.” As in, “I don’t trust that foreign milk from abroad,” or “I don’t fancy abroad—it’s all too hot, and they drive on the wrong side.” There’s a mystical aura to anywhere not under UK law. Even France feels like another planet. They’ll squint at the euro like it’s Monopoly money and assume no one anywhere speaks English. At all. Ever.
4. They think Nando’s is international cuisine.
If Nando’s is their idea of a bold culinary adventure, it’s safe to assume their passport’s collecting more dust than stamps. “Bit spicy, that medium sauce,” they’ll mutter, fanning themselves between bites.
They speak of Nando’s like it’s a travel experience. They’ve got a loyalty card, a preferred table, and a go-to order they treat like a sacred ritual. Never mind that Nando’s is basically a British institution at this point—it still feels foreign enough to feel fancy.
5. They’re suspicious of people who eat dinner past 6 p.m.
Anything after 7 p.m. is “getting late for a proper meal.” They’re the type to side-eye Mediterranean dining habits with open suspicion: “What d’you mean they don’t even eat ‘til 9pm? That’s bedtime.” The idea of a slow dinner that stretches into the night—maybe with wine, laughter, and no microwave in sight—is baffling. For them, dinner happens before EastEnders, and that’s final.
6. They’ve never experienced tipping confusion.
If they’ve never had the internal panic of working out how much to tip in the US, or the horror of realising you forgot to leave anything in Japan, chances are they haven’t crossed the border.
They live in a world where tipping is optional, vaguely embarrassing, and usually rounded to the nearest pound. The second you mention 20% as standard, they’ll gasp like you’ve just suggested paying £8 for a bottle of water. Oh, wait—Europe does that too.
7. They genuinely believe no one makes tea properly abroad.
In their eyes, the rest of the world doesn’t know what to do with a kettle. “They just don’t get it right,” they say, recounting tales of lukewarm tea served with lemon and judgement. They’ll bring their own teabags on the off chance they do venture out of the country. And if they see you use a microwave to warm the water? Instant disqualification. Friendship over.
8. They think European beaches are “too sandy.”
Yes, they’ve said it. Too sandy. Not enough rocks. Where are the proper pebbles and brisk sea breeze that leave your skin numb for three days? They’ll complain about “foreign sand getting everywhere” and miss the reliable discomfort of Brighton’s shingle or Blackpool’s seaweed buffet. They don’t want paradise—they want pain with a side of vinegar chips.
9. They think Eurovision is a political conspiracy.
They’re convinced the UK doesn’t win Eurovision because “everyone hates us.” Not because the song was bad. Not because of staging. Just pure international spite. “It’s all politics,” they mutter, shaking their head as we come 23rd again. They’ve never watched Eurovision for the outfits, the camp chaos, or the inexplicable key changes. It’s not fun—it’s injustice—and they’re taking it personally, year after year.
10. They pack like they’re entering a survival situation.
A three-day trip to Edinburgh? That requires 11 pairs of socks, two hairdryers, and a coat for every possible weather mood. If they ever did go abroad, you’d need to book a separate suitcase just for “just in case” items. They don’t do “light packing.” They do “overthinking with a suitcase.” Travel-sized toiletries? No, thanks—they’re bringing the full-sized bottle of Radox, rain or shine.
11. They’re still shocked you need a passport for Europe.
Even post-Brexit, they’re stunned by the idea of paperwork for a European holiday. “Wait, don’t we just use our driving licence?” No. We don’t. Not since 2020, and certainly not in Portugal. They’ll still refer to the EU like it’s a place you can visit. “We’re just popping over to the EU.” Okay, then. Hope you packed your blue passport and a vague sense of confusion.
12. They measure distance in hours, not miles.
Ask how far somewhere is, and you’ll get a response like “Oh, it’s a good two-hour drive.” Never mind the mileage—it’s all about how long it’ll take in traffic and how many service station Greggs you’ll pass. They’ve never been on a road trip that crosses borders or covers entire countries. If it takes more than three hours, it’s practically a journey of mythical proportions—and definitely requires snacks and backup loo roll.
13. They think Benidorm is “abroad enough.”
If they have been “abroad,” it’s been to Benidorm or Magaluf, where the full English is available and no one has to speak a single word of Spanish. There’s karaoke, cider on tap, and zero risk of cultural confusion. They’ll come home talking about “the locals” and how “cheap the drinks were.” In fairness, they did leave the UK, but spiritually, they brought it with them in their suitcase.
