Are you ashamed to be British? Take our quiz to find out

It is the sort of news which might make you choke on your oat milk latte, builder’s tea, value-pack sausage rolls and/or finest deli-cut Parma ham (delete according to personal choices): when it comes to travel, some of us are not wholly keen to be seen as British.

Specifically, almost a third of us who hail from this sceptred isle – or 29 per cent, which is near enough – like to avoid our fellow countrymen and women when we go on holiday.

How do we know? This is one of the findings in a recent study of our travel habits by language-learning platform Babbel. And there’s more. According to the survey, as many as 7 per cent of us pretend to be a different nationality entirely should we encounter another group of Britons while relaxing in our chosen destination. 

This has made the Telegraph Travel team think (a dangerous state of affairs, admittedly, but it is what it is). Polling statistics sometimes refer to “the silent majority” – a highly pertinent phrase, given that we have just “enjoyed” election season. So might those numbers be even larger? Could it be that, in fact, 87 per cent of us would rather stick forks in our legs than share an Italian restaurant with a group of Devonians, Brummies or Liverpudlians? Might it be that one in three of us will claim to be Slovenian, North Macedonian or Silesian, rather than confess to a home address in Carlisle or Canterbury?

There is only one way to find out – an utterly unscientific and completely facetious multiple-choice quiz. There are no wrong answers, no prizes, and there’s very little point.

But it will fill a few minutes before the next Euros football game kicks off. So let’s begin.

An easy one to start. Which of these is your ideal summer holiday destination?

A: The Costa del Sol. Good weather, friendly people, and everyone speaks English. What’s not to like?

B: Tuscany. Good weather, friendly people, and no-one speaks English. Well, apart from all the English in the villas in the hills. Ooh, look, is that Jeremy and Samantha? Cooee…

C: Well, last year we went to the grassy plains of western Paraguay. The Chamacoco are very lovely people, and so welcoming. But, best of all, you don’t meet any ghastly Brits.

You’ve decided to go to a Greek island for your summer holiday. Which one?

A: Rhodes. We’re getting on the beers in Faliraki. Your round, isn’t it?

B: Crete. Excellent flight connections from the UK and some beautiful properties – but, you know, it’s such a big island, and there’s so much room to space out. No, we haven’t been to Malia. But we’ve heard that it’s fine, probably, if you’re into that sort of thing.

C: We’ve refused to go to a Greek island ever since that dreadful incident with the donkey on Santorini. If we must, we’ll book an old shepherd’s cottage on the Pelion.

Oh dear. You’ve landed at an airport in a major European destination. And would you look at that? There’s a big old queue for British visitors, while everyone else is strolling through the e-gates. Do you…

A: Try to use the e-gates anyway. You don’t see why you should have to queue. 

B: Stand stoically in line for the next 30 minutes, sighing occasionally. It is what it is, and we’ll just have to wait – although it was a bit rude of the entire border force team to go for lunch en masse, just as our flight arrived. Have they switched off the air-con?

C: Put on your loudest voice and say: “Well this didn’t happen before Brexit, but I guess you all knew what you were voting for.” Repeat this every two minutes.

You walk past a beachside restaurant, where a table of British tourists is noisily holding court on the front terrace. Do you… 

A: Launch into a quick chorus of “Southgate you’re the one”, pull your shirt over your head, and walk into the door while temporarily blinded. Brilliant bantz.

B: Go in anyway, but ask for a table inside, and towards the back.

C: Make a quick phone call to the gendarmes, and tell them to come tout suite. 

You are already in the restaurant when a large group of British diners arrives. Do you…

A: Ask the waiter to seat the newcomers next to you. Strangers are just friends you haven’t met yet, and besides, you want to discuss the football. Can you actually believe that, after all the rumours, United didn’t sack Ten Hag?

B: Roll your eyes at the waiter, and change your steak order from “medium rare” to “still breathing”.

C: Leave.

Uh-oh. That big British group has ordered a third bottle of wine. Do you…

A: Push the tables together. You have a feeling, as the Black Eyed Peas so clearly put it, that tonight’s gonna be a good night; that tonight’s gonna be a good good night.

B: Put on an Inspector Clouseau accent, switch to your best Franglais, and order your dessert with added hand gestures. Never mind that the waiter answers you in English. He gets it. He knows you’re a chic Europhile. He will give you the digestifs sur la maison.

C: Spend the next hour glowering openly at the table in question, making increasingly loud comments about how “some people shouldn’t be allowed passports” – while your wife shrinks visibly into her seat. 

Which of the following makes you NOT want to go on holiday to Spain?

A: The anti-tourism protests in Tenerife and Mallorca. Fine. We won’t go where we aren’t wanted.

B: The temperatures. I’m sorry, it’s just too hot these days. As soon as it gets above 20C, Geoffrey starts to come out in hives. You don’t want to see Geoffrey with hives.

C: All the British tourists. Seriously, they’re everywhere. Absolutely everywhere. They’ve even discovered Valencia. We thought we were safe in Valencia.

You bump into an American couple in Rome. For some reason, they mis-judge your accent, and assume that you are Australian. Do you…

A: Shout: “Listen, pal. I was born in Birmingham, I live in Birmingham, and I’ll die in Birmingham. No, not Birmingham Alabama. The real one. Up the Villa.”

B: Spend the rest of the day pretending to be from Sydney. Correcting people can be very awkward. If you were going to say something, dear, you should have said it an hour ago.

C: Yell: “Australian? How dare you!” – before striding out of the Colosseum in a huff.

It’s just too hot on the Mediterranean shoreline at the moment. You’re going to stay on British soil instead. Which of the following are you choosing? 

A: Somewhere on the Lincolnshire or Norfolk coasts, maybe. Seriously, we have some lovely beaches and coastal gems in this country, and we really should be more proud of what these places have to offer. 

B: The Scottish Highlands. So very beautiful in summer, if you don’t get eaten by midges, and the scenery is so dramatic that you could be in New Zealand.

C: I am not – and, I repeat, not – taking a holiday in this country. Too expensive, too crowded, and we all know about the state of the beaches. 

Where do you go skiing?

A: That stupid sport where a load of Norwegians in shell-suits go down a mountain on bits of metal? OK, whatever, carbon fibre. I don’t care. Not for me.

B: The French Alps. It’s a home from home, and the snow is generally great, as long as you’re high enough up the mountain.

C: Aspen. We do so love Colorado in winter. The flight time and the expense involved mean that, generally, you don’t bump into [whispered] you know who…

You’re going rogue, and picking somewhere unusual for your next trip. Where?

A: Crewe.

B: Bratislava, Split, or maybe Warsaw. Somewhere in the old eastern Europe, anyway. Fascinating. It’s great to visit new places, but we don’t like to fly too far.

C: The Solomon Islands. You know why.

It’s time to fly home. But, what’s this? Ah, there’s a British hen party booked onto your flight, and they are loving the pinot grigio. What do you do? 

A: Wish the bride-to-be all the best as you get on board. Happiest day of your life.

B: Reach for the eye-mask and ear-plugs as soon as you are in your seat. Surely the steward isn’t going to keep serving them?

C: Rearrange your flight. No point getting on this plane anyway. It’ll be making an emergency landing in Bordeaux due to unimaginable shenanigans.