It’s not quite humility, not quite insecurity. It’s something more intricate — a kind of social aikido, a preemptive strike of modesty before anyone dares to call you confident.

My introduction to British eccentric festivals was via the infamous Cooper’s Hill Cheese-Rolling. Imagine hundreds of people hurtling down a steep hill, chasing a wheel of Double Gloucester cheese. People tumble, bounce, and occasionally fly through the air—all for the glory of catching—or at least surviving—the cheese. I’ll admit it: my first reaction was to laugh, then gasp, then question my own sanity for living somewhere this wild.

Every November, Brits gather to celebrate the fact that a man named Guy Fawkes failed to blow up Parliament in 1605. How do they mark this historic non-event? By burning his effigy on a massive bonfire while eating toffee apples and cheering. Yes, really.

So if you’re visiting London and you ask for “chips” with your sandwich, don’t be surprised if you’re handed a plate of thick, steaming fries instead of a packet of Walkers.

One of the first truly disorienting moments I had after moving to the UK was stepping into a car and realizing… everything felt backward. The driver’s seat was on the right side. The gear stick (in a manual, no less) was to my left. And perhaps most jarringly, I was expected to drive on the left side of the road. As an American, I grew up driving on the right like 70% of the world does. So, switching sides wasn’t just a mild adjustment—it was like suddenly being asked to e