One of the things I like most about using London public transport, especially the busses, is the range of languages you hear on them, from Panjabi to Polish to Russian. As a large, multicultural metropolis, it’s what you would expect. One of the tongues I’ve  recently been introduced to, mainly by my new PA Alistair, is Jamaican Creole. I heard him speaking it the other day as he was cooking my dinner, and again just now spoken by a lady on the bus. Most of the words in the  creole are English or English in origin, but the grammar and word order stem from languages from West Africa, so you get  an intriguing evolution of english, spoken by slaves and their descendants in the Caribbean and now being imported back into London. That, I must say, fascinates me: I’ve always liked words and writing, and the way in which languages change over time as  they are exposed to all kinds of influences. I also think the cultural melting pot that London is make it a perfect place to watch such evolutionary processes in action.

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