Tell-tale signs on the road

It’s always a laugh when travelling overseas to note dodgy signs in English.

It’s always a laugh when travelling overseas to note dodgy signs in English. Some of us may snigger but, truly, if English is not your first language, it’s a minefield trying to tackle its grammatical inconsistencies and pronunciation trickery. Though, through and trough, anyone? Sometimes a lack of common sense adds spice: “Touching wires will cause instant death. Heavy penalties apply.” Or the wrong application of an expression: “If this is your first visit to Mysore, you are welcome to it.” Or assigning emotions to inanimate objects: “This fence is alarmed.”

Businesses in Australia can claim no such disadvantage, but simply making up words is now a “thing”. It’s “taking liberties with the language” as our parents may have said. I give you a petrol station in my neighbourhood that’s opened after a rebuild with a sign that reads: Foodary. Apparently it’s a Caltex franchise which, according to the launch spiel in 2017, is about creating an environment “that is inviting … and excites all five senses … we want people to see, hear, taste, smell and feel the difference”. This is a fast food and mini-grocery outlet we’re talking about here, not world peace or brain surgery. And how about actually “making” sense?

Then there’s the practice of window-dressing everything and not giving a toss about what makes actual sense. How about the widespread tomfoolery of misappropriation, such as “barista coffee” from press-button machines at fast-food outlets across the land. Where’s the actual barista? Hanging out next door at the pizzery, perhaps. I clocked one of those in the US a few years back, although some wag had taken a paintbrush and changed the sign to pissery. Hurrah.

The language on many menus is out of control, too. How many biodynamic, organic, artisan, free-range craftsmen does it take to make a “wholesome, handmade” pie? Quite a few apparently. And then there are the delivery specialists, timetable curators and engagement consultants required to get said pies to the shop or, pardonnez-moi, patisserie. It’s no piece of cruelty-free cake, that’s for sure, not even at the Bread (corr) Pitt bakery franchise.

Ages ago, Lonely Planet released a book about crazy signs, some to do with the misuse of English but others just wince-making and less forgivable. Sydney has a Thai Foon restaurant and a Latin American-flavoured Tequila Mockingbird diner.

You’d reckon the owners of A Salt and Battery seafood in Brisbane might have had second thoughts by now. Australia boasts more than a few chippery joints as well, and they’re not selling timber offcuts.

It used to be easy in days gone by to carry a pencil and surreptitiously edit restaurant menus. Now I feel like I need to roam the land with a ladder and a paintbrush. Hang tight, I’ll go check hardware prices at The Toolery.