When I first got here looking at the Tube map provided me with endless amusement. I was certain that half the names were based on dares. Aside from the obvious ones that clearly raise eyebrows (Cockfosters, St. Johns Wood and Shepards Bush) there were other ones that made me giggle like: Burnt Oak, Tooting Bec, Gallons Reach, and Hornchruch (which when the Brits say it sounds too much like whore in church…). I used to sit on the tube and wonder things like exactly who are the Seven Sisters?! And what would i find at the station called Mudchute?! (these were the days before I discovered free newspapers and their trashy gossip columns).
But today… I was looking at the tube map at Gloucester Station (pronounced Gloss-ter because that doesn’t make any sense, so obviously it should be pronounced that way) and I noticed that the names don’t even phase me. It’s kind of sad actually. I’m shifting out of my tourist mind frame.
Come away from the light syl.
One of my historical linguistics classes was all about weird-ass British proper nouns and their equally weird -ass pronunciations.
Gloucester is a good one. Sos is Leicestershire (sp?) = Lester. But my all time favourite is Featherstonehaugh = Fan-shaw. Weird.
The other weird thing about British placenames in particular is how they can go on and on and on with prefixes…
“Oh, I live in Guildfordshirehamwicksteadheath.”