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I just returned from a trip-of-a-lifetime with my family. Northern Ireland, with a day trip to Dublin, and almost a week in London. So many sites and many fond memories. But don’t worry — I won’t turn this blog into a travel memoir.

But this is a blog about language, and therefore an appropriate place to talk about the strange reality that dialects within English can make it difficult to understand one another. For example, I had the following conversation with a typically friendly taxi driver in Belfast about our visit to the just-opened Titanic exhibit (FYI: the ship was built in Belfast).