English traditions are manifested in restraint as a sign of respect for their interlocutor2Traditional English breakfast consists of a set of products that has not changed for centuries. The breakfast consists of fried sausages, fried bacon, eggs, tomatoes, fried champignons, beans in tomato sauce, toasted toast. All products are stacked on a large plate. As a drink, tea with milk, coffee and orange juice are served.3 But before we go to dinner, the English have an interesting tradition. I need to change before dinner. For dinner in England, it is accepted to change clothes, it is unacceptable to be present in something solemn, clothes can be simple.
I leave in October , so cut out at least a few hours to give . Not to say that I am proud gardener , but tinkering with plantings and rest in peace and quiet I just transform . Traveled to the country on a regular city bus to the last stop , ten minutes on foot. And somehow I notice that in front of me goes a woman who in the bus , I do remember , was not. People descended from the bus a lot, but that it goes in front of me . I was amazed when her clothes : it was too hot, and it is in a long brown skirt, some faded black blouse and old - hat , old , lost all shape. Well , a little smile to myself , you never know , there are people strangeness.And suddenly I see this stranger turns off the path to the cemetery (it is the shortest road to the cottages - past the cemetery ) , and stops ... disappears. That is, now I saw her - and there it was gone ... I am at the beginning, of course, was taken aback , but he gave no sign , go , but look . No it even among low cemetery fences are not visible. Of course, the bad feeling was , but then somehow everything was forgotten . And just a week later I saw her again in front of him on the path , she was in the same garb and it looks like no one but me , have not seen her . Again turned to the cemetery , and again disappeared. At this point I could not stand it , said everything that he saw the nearest neighbor in the cottage.He did not even hear the rest , said the lady in the old hat seen all , someone once someone much. But all noticed that she always goes to the same place and always fades , dissolves in the cemetery. Who is she and what appears on the crowded footpath , so no one knows. Yet this story is do not leave me . Decided and went to the cemetery. It has long been abandoned , no new burials . Legs like themselves chose the path to the grave with quite settled dips cross. For almost can not tell it was the inscription on an ancient and miraculously preserved photos vaguely guessed silhouette of a woman in a long dress . Her head is decorated with old hat is exactly the same as that of a stranger , I saw ... ПРИКОЛЬНАЯ ИСТОРИЯ)
