Philip Kirkland gave up the delights of Radstock nearly 4 years ago and, - with his mexican wife - Margarita - went to live in Mexico City. He has agreed to share some of his experiences with us on these pages.

I read a report recently about British expatriates who fail to make the transition and return home with their tail between their legs. Much of this, I believe, is due to the character of the British people. Much as we claim to be cosmopolitan and adventurous, we are essentially an insular island race.

So how did this particular Brit do it, where did many others go wrong and just how do the Mexicans see us? The first thing, which is essential anyway if you intend to stay, is to learn the language, something the British are not very good at! I arrived in Mexico being able to say “Sí”, “No”, “Gracias” and not much else. No matter that my accent is decidedly foreign, the fact that I now speak Spanish opens a lot of doors and stops me from feeling like an outsider, and besides, after nearly three years of formal lessons, I have a much better understanding of Spanish grammar than the majority of natives! So lesson number one, be more Gary Lineker than Ian Rush; how long was Rushie in Italy?

Lesson number two is to absorb the culture one hundred percent. That’s a little difficult at times. For example, there is a Spanish phrase, “en punto”, as in “3.00PM en punto” (exactly), which, given the Mexican reputation for lack of punctuality, doesn’t belong in any dictionary of Mexican Spanish.

. . absorbing the culture . .

I’ve tried to be late but my inherent Englishness doesn’t allow it. In other ways though, I’ve found it very easy. It’s impossible to find baked beans in Mexico, but no problem. I’m more likely to knock up a quick quesadilla or torta when I feel peckish. Polite as the English may be, I’m now even more polite. I greet everyone when I enter a lift, and excuse myself for breaking their journey if I have to get out before they do. I address old ladies “Señora” even if I think they are lower class than myself and I have no problems helping out young ladies, as the feminist movement doesn’t seem to have reached Mexico in the same way as it has in Blighty. The only time when I’m not polite is when I’m driving: that wouldn’t be Mexican! I also take an interest in the current affairs of “my” country so that I can discuss politics and social problems with the natives. I even refer to the British as “they” sometimes!

Lesson number three is to make it virtually impossible to return “home”. (In quotes, because Mexico IS my home). How? One way is to make a long term financial commitment… or marry a native. I did both, but the latter is the best, firstly for obvious reasons and secondly, it is a great way to ensure cultural integration. For that, and everything else, thank you Margarita.

To answer my last question, how do the Mexicans see us. Exotic! Imagine, all those dark-skinned beauties with their semi-tropical life-style and WE are exotic! (or should that be YOU are exotic?).

As in many countries, there are lots of questions about England. “Is it true everything stops at 5pm for tea?” Yeah, of course! Besides, I always though it was 4pm! “Is it always cold and raining?” Probably, but it actually rains more in Mexico City than in London.

Any racism or xenophobia that I expected before arriving just doesn’t exist, I fact, quite the opposite. Therefore, in summary, it can be done and I did it. Don’t forget that this isn’t a holiday. After the honeymoon period you have to work, pay taxes, worry about the bills and go to the bathroom. However, if you asked me if I wanted to live in England, I would say, “Never! I just wouldn’t fit in”.

Philip Kirkland