Where Does Food Come From? and miscellanea in response to comments as well as another English lesson

One thing that has amazed me is where produce comes from in Britain. It all sounds so exotic to me. Tenderstem broccoli (the kind you get in chinese restaurants) from Kenya, peppers and strawberries from Spain, rainbow trout from Argyll Scotland (and it doesn't even look like a pair of socks or a vest), baby courgettes from Kenya (we know them as zuchinni), stringless green beans from Morocco, mandarin oranges from Cyprus. Of course to the Brits it probably sounds exotic to get things from California and Mexico and Central and South America and the Okanagan or Taber!
Catherine writes from Mexico where she is basking on a quiet beach enjoying her retirement having a totally different experience to me. And no Catherine, I haven't had any responses to my blog from weirdos as you thought I might. And yes I do enjoy being able to do what I want when I want at my own pace and schedule, but it would be nice to share it with someone, at least part of the time. Tabby writes me about Ralph up to his shinannegan's in the legislature again throwing books at paiges. You should read about what the British politicians get into trouble about, and the press here is really quite ugly. The headlines scream at you everyday using very strong, mean and aggressive language. The sky has actually been blue here much more than I would have thought. It is clear today and there was a little thin layer of ice on the canal this morning. First time I've experienced that. There is a pair of swans nesting along the banks of the canal, right across from our living room window. And what do Londoners delight in - beer and chips! and the fact that they think they live in the best city in the world (but would us colonials agree with that??!!) And yes Amber, I too look forward to a phone call without the echo of my own voice repeating in my ear. As if I need to listen to myself any more than I already am.
And are you ready for another English lesson? I'll continue with bollocks, as it seems to have more than one meaning as in "He (she) has no bollocks!" I think my flatmates are starting to get annoyed with my asking them what words mean. What we call pototo chips, they call crisps, what we call french fries or chips, they call chips. What we call running shoes they call training shoes. A truck is a lorry, a baby carriage is a pram, the trunk of a car is a boot and the hood is the bonnet, an aubergine is an eggplant, the High Street is a street where there are a lot of stores for shopping, pants are underwear not slacks, The City is the financial and business centre of London and a Jordy (sp?) is someone who comes from Newcastle, but it seems that they have to be born and raised there as Barton isn't one.