A few years back, Mrs Max and I went on a little jolly around the world, because, why not! Oh, the places we went. The people we met, mostly European backpackers, in every country. It was amazing! It wasn't just the locals in the various countries that we met as well, it was totally normal when in, say, Byron Bay in Australia to be surrounded by three Swiss, two French, four Spaniards and millions upon millions of Germans. One of them was also called Max, which naturally won him first prize in life, according to me. It was fantastic! A perfect opportunity to learn about different people, different lives and different cultures that are normally just a few hundred miles across the Channel, while we're half way around the world. I learned that; the Swiss eat far too much pasta, the Germans simply cannot say the word "smurf" and everyone I ever met from Norway had the brightest and blondest hair of anyone I ever met on the whole trip, and we even went to Los Angeles! It was an amazing time, and a fantastic experience I'd recommend to anyone who wants to do it.





But there was one thing that did strike me as odd. If two people from different European countries were having a chat, they'd always speak in English! In fact, there was not a single occasion where we hit a language barrier in any country we visited. Wherever in Europe they were from, they knew English. And not even broken English, but better English than the folks you find making silly noises on The Only Way Is Essex. In fact, I regularly saw the odd sight along the lines of a guy from, say, Norway and a girl from, say, Sweden, talking to each other in English, because it was the only language they both knew. Now this is both a blessing and a curse, because I could not speak another language apart from broken French (thank you, Upper School) and the phrase "do you speak English" in a small handful of other languages. If someone from Portugal or Italy asked me how my day was, I could only communicate through hand gestures. However, the upside of this is that this would never happen, as they would simply say, in perfect English, "How was your day". It means that I can continue following the very British stereotype of never learning another language, ever. As long as I don't adopt the other example of "Britishness" I found in Auckland New Zealand at 4am on the eve of the World Cup: drunk people walking around shouting out "COME ON ENGLAND!". Oh, the cringe was huge, I tell you, huge!



Now, I could be like those lovely Europeans and learn lots of languages, but there's a problem with this: I'm far too lazy to do this (and far too honest, it seems). I could learn all of the 23 official working languages, but I guarantee that I'd then run into the only person in the world who still speaks Esperanto, which for those of you whose knowledge of the 80's comes only from history books, music videos or dodgy American sitcoms, it was the odd language chosen to be "the one" European language. However when they discovered no-one cared, it was abandoned faster than Gary Glitter's fan-base. I could cut out nearly 90% of them and learn the two other biggest ones besides English; French and German. However whenever I've spoken to someone in French, the only language I know apart from my own, they've always been far more keen to try their English on me than me try my patchy French on them. Maybe they feel sorry for me. Who knows, but either way it quickly stops being a cultural exchange. Same with the Germans, only it becomes a game of "try to swing the conversation towards Smurfs" and watch them squirm.



But even if I was successful in learning every language in the world, there would still be one that defeated me. It's a crafty and deceptive language, even more confusing than the French concept of deciding a door or a table is "feminine". Even worse, the native speakers of this language refuse to translate for you, despite being completely capable of doing so, and will become angry at you for not understanding them. Even worse than that, the basis for this language is English, so you're easily fooled into thinking all is well. This language has no name, but the following exchange will let a flow of familiarity flow over half the population, and a shudder at the memories of mistranslations for the other half:



"How are you?"



"Fine!".



Been there? I know, right? It's confusing and unnecessary. I call the language "Fineish". I spent a good chunk of the last two weeks being schooled on this mysterious language by a couple of female friends of mine, and I'm still none the wiser. I know that if the answer to my question is "fine" then I have to ask "are you sure?", however even if the answer to this question is "yes", then this still doesn't mean that they're ok. Why? If a waiter at a restaurant asks me if I would like to order drinks, and I said "no" when I meant yes, what have I achieved? If he said "are you sure", and I said "no I'm fine", he'll walk away and I am sans glass of coke! What if I buy a new car and they ask what colour I want, and I sarcastically say "purple" rather than the red I want, is it his fault for not reading my mind? So why is it my fault for assuming when someone says they're "fine", that they're fine? My new rule now is, when confronted with this landmine, is to simply say "you sure?" and if the answer is "yes", no matter how aggressive or sarcastic it is, I will simply assume that they are actually fine and act according to this. I am aware that this will make no difference, but I've offered a chance to talk, and an appeal. After then, I'll assume that all is tip-top and will proceed to talk, at length, about cars and explosions and dinosaurs.





With foreign languages, I'll make some vague attempt at speaking it for someone I meet, as will they (normally far better than my poor attempts), but we both understand that there's a language barrier and we attempt to bridge it. Anyone who uses Fineish must understand that non-native speakers lack the... oh, what's it called again..... oh yea, mind-reading superpowers to understand such double-speak.So if you're going to use Fineish, remember that a large chunk of the population are unable to understand it at all. Why not bridge the gaps, the way that most of Europe do and most of the UK should probably do, by allowing them to understand instead of saying literally the opposite of what you're trying to say.And then we can get on with exploring the world and enjoying it, rather than trying to desperately figure out what the other person is trying to say.