The blog I should have written yesterday.  I have been an urban bad person, driving 24mph in a 20mph zone. Unknowingly until a brown letter dropped through my door. £100 fine and either mandatory attendance at a Speed Awareness Course or 2 points on my licence.

I accepted the course either on-line or in person. On-line bookings were not being accepted so I opted to attend a city hotel 5 miles away. The booking that appeared when I clicked Plymouth, was a remote golf club in Launceston, a small Cornish town more than an hour away.

And then the chicken story of yesterday got in the way. The ear worm of The Janner Song became my in car entertainment as I drove through miles of  beautiful Cornish Countryside in glorious sunshine.

West Country accents shift and change as the geography of Devon and Cornwall change.

As I sat in the front of the classroom I could easily pick up the distinctive Plymouth accent from quite a few course attenders who, like me had been relocated ” down Cornwall”

Every time a “Proper Job” Plymothian spoke my head played a few seconds of the Janner Song.

Well, in England’s South West is the

county that’s best,
       
full of rolling green hills and a coast
           
that’s been blessed.
     
And inside of the Sound lie the three
        
Plymouth towns,
     
where everyone’s known as a Janner.



Janners,   Janners,
               
down in Plymouth we’re all known as

Janners.


        
And our own footballteam Plymouth Argyle
 
supreme
             
are the finest this beautiful county has

seen.
     
Every player of every nationality,
                        
when they pull the green they’re all

Janners.



Janners,   Janners,
               
down in Plymouth we’re all known as

Janners.


So, there was our song, we didn’t keep you
    
too long,
              
now you all know just one word of

West-Country slang.
                         
And while there’s meat on me bones, I hope
     
I’ll always be known
    
as a typical Plymouth grown Janner.


Janners,    Janners,
              
down in Plymouth we’re all known as

Janners.


Janners,    Janners,
                
down in Plymouth we’re all known as

Janners.

The Janner Song by the Sensational Baret Brothers.

I blame the chickens.

There was an irony to attending a speed awareness course in deepest Cornwall when, for many of us, our misdeeds took place within Jannerland City Limits.

These were two of the roads I drove down to get home.

Not a chance of reoffending.