Tomorrow is St George's Day. The day of our (England's) patron saint, which is celebrated by about a dozen English people and one drinks company.

So, guess where I'm going to go tomorrow. Scotland! The one place I can almost guarantee there'll be no bunting or even a mention of St George. Why? Because the Scots hate the English.

Or do they? I've never met a Scot who made it clear they felt that way. Perhaps they've just do a good job of masking their true feelings, but I've always found all the people I've ever met on our mountain biking trips to Scotland to be very, very welcoming and friendly. Same goes of the couple of trips we've made to our other neighbours who (apparently) hate us - the Welsh.

Perhaps the English just like to think everybody hates them? Feeling sorry for ourselves is, after all, a national pastime.

Another thing we like to do is stereotype other nations. Last week I went to London for the day on the train and mentioned to Karen I'd probably have a few cheeky Stellas on the way back. To which she said:

"Erghh, if I was on the train and saw a man on his own drinking Stella I'd think he was going all the way to Scotland!"

Obviously she was joking and doesn't really think all Scots are drunks. Or at least I think so.

For those unclear on the difference between England, Scotland and Wales, here's a bit from the Wikipedia article on Great Britain:

Great Britain is the largest island of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. Politically, Great Britain also refers to England, Scotland and Wales in combination

Confusing, init.