Although Germany is wonderful in so many ways, I have some desires that it simply can't fulfill.

Yes, I'm talking about crisps.

Here, pretty much the only flavour of crisp is paprika. Yes, paprika. How ridiculous. And they also only come in enormous bags which are probably designed to be shared among three or more people. Now even though I am generally a rather generous soul, I don't like sharing my crisps, even if they are paprika. That means that I end up eating the whole enormous packet myself, even though I don't want to. This leaves me with a horrible bloated feeling that doesn't go away until the next day.

Crisps on the islands, however, come in a variety of flavours. I'm not a very big fan of all of these new-fangled flavours like Organic Wild Fermented Gooseberry & Traditional Otter Cheese, just give me good old Cheese & Onion, Salt & Vinegar or Smokey Bacon. The bags are perfectly sized for individual pleasure. Sometimes it's even possible to have a second without any risk of a nasty crisp hangover.

The best crisps are Irish ones, Taytos. When I was a kid, the bag had a picture of Mr. Tayto on it, holding a bag of Taytos which, of course, depicted himself holding a bag of Taytos. This must have continued on to infinity. Crisps made Child Rampage consider existentialism. Now though, the bag looks like this:
cheese-and-onion.
No existential crisis, but still damn good. I don't think these Taytos exist in the big island. That's ok, I like Walker's too.

So. In one week and four hours, I will be touching down in Liverpool. I know what the first thing I'm going to buy is.