My plans to lacquer France, thereby creating an
unpopulated replica which could be sited conveniently
for
the English, have met with some skepticism. Je suis
desolée.
Howevertheless, we have a backup plan which will surely
be better received.
Wales, as you know, is made of slate. It
goes down a
very
long way, and no doubt cost a fortune when it was new.
They don't build 'em like that any more, and most of
Wales
was built comfortably high above sea level, to leave
room
for valleys and hills. You really have to admire the
workmanship.
Now that England is becoming crowded, though, we
ought
to think again.
You will doubtless be aware of the Welsh propensity for
digging holes ("mynes" as they like to call them).
Because
they didn't find much in these holes apart from coal and
slate (no surprise there, then), most of these holes are
now disused. Many of them are also connected by
underground tunnels.
So here's the plan. We cap each of these mineshafts,
and
we start pumping in hydrogen under pressure. Sooner or
later, this will inevitably cause delamination of the slate
-
first locally but then in one enormous blister under the
entire country.
Because Wales is basically domed (the bits on the coast
are
all at sea-level, and it slopes down where it joins
England,
to avoid creating a trip hazard), the entire top layer of
Wales should trap enough hydrogen to be lighter than air.
At this point, we simply tow the surface of Wales
eastward*
using helicopters, until it is clear of the present
coastline.
We then open some of the capped mineshafts, and
release
enough hydrogen to set Wales down gently in the sea,
along with its inhabitants.
What we're left with, of course, is a Wales-shaped area
of
clean, unoccupied rock, where Wales used to be. Since
the Welsh army will be stuck on the old Wales, we should
have no problem claiming this for England and making it
habitable.
[Or, to use the more conventional notation, westward.)