Auf Wiedersehen, Pet, Series 2

Barry:
I've gotta say, Neville, wait 'til we have sleeping bags organised and a proper roster for the kitchen... [Chuckles] ...it'll be just like Germany again.

Neville:
Aye, that's what I'm afraid of.

Barry:
[As Neville gets some butter and places it in the trolley] Nev, look, whatever deprivations we suffered there, and maybe about to suffer again here, there's no denying that sense of communal spirit, is there? [Neville gets some lard] Ah, yes... bacon. Yes, rindless... best back'd be favourite, judging by this morning.

Neville:
We've all move on from there though, haven't we? At least, we're supposed to have done. It's just another depressing indication of our lack of upward mobility that we're still roughin' it, country house or no. Smoked or unsmoked?

Barry:
Erm... get three of each, save arguments. I think I'm tryin' to draw a distinction between quality of life and spiritual progress.

Neville:
Howay, let's get some Wonderloaf to gan with this bacon.

Barry:
Ah, ha, ha, let's get some flour and yeast to go with this bacon.

Neville:
I'd just as soon have bread, Barry.

Barry:
You will have. I bake me own now. Aye. When Hazel and me were betrothed, I took cookery lessons. See, it was very important not to fall into stereotype roles vis-a-vis domestic chores. Anyway, one of the things they taught me was how to make me own bread. And d'you know something, Neville? When they brought my little brown cob out of the oven, hand-baked by me, I... I nearly cried. Y'know, now I think I know how woman must feel when they give birth. [An older lady goes by, leaving Neville looking slightly embarrassed.]