As a British person, I hate British tourists too.
Many years ago, I was sat with my wife and a friend outside a bar in Bruges (yes, that one). It was the end of lunchtime and a bunch of mouthy British tourists sat down at a nearby table and started talking at the top of their voices, summoning the waiter over to order beers (naturally) in that way that only they can: “Oi!”. We shrank down in our chairs and started talking quietly as they were clearly casting around for someone to engage with.
We managed to avoid the worst of it but when they came to pay for their drinks, all that they had was pocketfuls of euros coins and they dropped them over the table and ground and then counted out exactly what was owed. Then finally, accidental eye contact, I was busted! “What’s the time mate?”. “Half-past three”, I answer. “Ain’t that typical they all speak perfect English”, he said as they stumbled off into the afternoon. Saved, by their ignorance…
