Suddenly, in the space of a moment, I realized what it was that I loved about Britain–which is to say, all of it. Every last bit of it, good and bad–old churches, country lanes, people saying ‘Mustn’t grumble,’ and ‘I’m terribly sorry but,’ people apologizing to ME when I conk them with a careless elbow, milk in bottles, beans on toast, haymaking in June, seaside piers, Ordnance Survey maps, tea and crumpets, summer showers and foggy winter evenings–every bit of it.