I don't like living in the English countryside. You can't get a decent Latté, and it smells funny.
Belting along the poo-strewn country lanes today, with a fine aerosol of cow-ordure spraying off my rear tyre, I cycled over one of those round Victorian drain covers the English haven't bothered to replace in 110 years. There was a sudden hiss, and progress came to a halt. A sliver of rusting metal had gone through both sides of the tyre. Tyre and choob ruined.
Net loss: £20.00.