Travel bugs: Slips of the tongue among worldly travellers

Playing cricket in Galle, Sri Lanka.Photo / Philip Lee, Getty Images

Tim Roxborogh on the joys of complaining about your holiday.

Geographical mispronunciations

The Black Caps have just played a test at one of the most scenic venues in all of world cricket, Galle International Stadium in Galle, Sri Lanka. If you're not a cricket person, this is a ground surrounded by the centuries-old Galle Fort on one side and the Indian Ocean on the other. And the nearby city centre of Galle itself is a glorious cluster of narrow lanes, gorgeous historic places of worship, cute boutique hotels, cafes and galleries, and a pretty much near-unanimous verdict from travellers of unabashed awesomeness.

Only problem, not everybody knows how to say its name, or perhaps that was just that one English girl I met in India who could not pronounce the very place she adored the most:

"Oh my gosh, if you're going to Sri Lanka, you have to go to Galley. Trust me, Galley is the best place in Sri Lanka — I spent two weeks there, I loved it so much".

Some conversations are startling enough that they're etched in your grey matter with such ferocity you remember them near-on word-for-word. I'd put money on the fact I've got 90 per cent of the above quote from 2014 correct for that very reason: it was startling. And she wasn't backing down.

Me: "Are you sure it's pronounced "Galley"?" I didn't shy away from asking the question, aided by the fact I was sure the answer wasn't "Galley".

"Yes, it's Galley".

Me: "Not Galle? As in, gall that rhymes with ball that rhymes with call that rhymes with fall? As opposed to "Galley" that rhymes with valley that rhymes with Sally that rhymes with tally?"

"Um, I'd think that after two weeks I'd know how to say the name of my favourite city!"

And so the conversation went. We were on the Southern India backpacker trail and she'd been in Sri Lanka as a bit of a warm-up — psychologically, physically; everything — before the all-out sensory assault that is the much bigger brother of India. There was nothing dim-witted about her and I admired greatly her chutzpah for exploring India and Sri Lanka entirely on her own. It's why her mispronunciation of Galle was so, shall we say, galling.

It's like Australians with the Maldives. It wasn't until I lived in Australia in 2010 that I realised our transtasman cousins outrageously think these stunning islands are named after their uncle Mal who loves diving: "Mal-dives".

At least that's what it always sounded like to my ears. Now whether dear Aussie Uncle Mal likes underwater adventures or not, I'm here to inform you that the white-sand-ringed chain of islands south of India that have attracted honeymooners and cashed-up holiday-makers for decades are not named after him and his favourite hobby. That's right my Aussie friends, I hate to/love to break it to you, but it's not "Mal-dives", it's "Mal-deeves".

Kiwis are far from being off the hook. Issues with our own place names aside, I feel like doing a public service announcement anytime I hear one of us talk about "Los Angelees", as if it's "Los Angel-Iain-Lees-Galloway" or "Los Angel-Leighs-Hart" or "Los Angel-Lees-Scratch-Perry". For the record, Los Angeles is said the same as if you're talking about Angela's Ashes: "Los Angela's Ashes", and most certainly not "Los Angel-Lees-Germon".

Tim Roxborogh hosts Newstalk ZB's Weekend Collective and blogs at RoxboroghReport.com.