North & South. No, not the boy band.

As if dating wasn't complicated enough, the introduction of the railways in the Victorian era and the acquisition of Safeway by Morrisons mean you're much more likely to fall for a northerner these days. Sure enough, that foreign accent is pretty sexy, not to mention their big muscular shoulders from all that time spent in the coal shafts, but there's more to the north-south divide than teas and brews. When it comes to dating across borders, be prepared for some re-education.

Let me give you a few examples. It was a grey and wet May day (grim down south for once, but not, I'm sure, as grim as it gets up there) and my northern stallion and I were planning to stay in my flat for the night to watch a film. I suggested we buy some snacks and we split up in the supermarket. I returned with the perfect accompaniment for such a day: strawberries and cream and a cool bottle of rose to chase the rains away. In his basket were some value tea bags, a loaf of Warburton's bread and a packet of Eccles cakes. Eccles cakes? What on earth are they? I thought. We looked at each other across our shopping baskets, as if across a void, and laughed. We bought the lot and Eccles cakes are really quite nice, although perhaps not with rose.

The tables were turned, however, when I went to stay with him near the Lake District. My London weekends usually begin with a hangover, brunch, some Shipwrecked, followed by more socialising within proximity of a pub, bar or club. Camping! I said. Great! Despite the winds and biting cold, the great outdoors was great – so beautiful and refreshing. But every time I thought we'd finished a walk, or were about to head to a nice local, he'd find another mountain to climb. I was exhausted by the end of the weekend and realised that to keep this man, I had to polish up my act. At least there are gyms in London.

But the more I got to know him and the more differences we found, the more fun it became. I never knew, for example, how many varieties of pie there are, while he was impressed with my muesli collection. He said things that made me laugh, like "turn the big light on," and he equally laughed at the way I pronounced "Newcaaastle" and "Lancaaaster." I corrected him when he said he was going "down" to Yorkshire from London and he pointed out that Birmingham is in the Midlands and also Nottingham – who would have known?

And the best thing about my northern romance was, surprisingly, the romance. People on Coronation Street are never that romantic, but he sent me roses in the post after our weekend together with a card to say how much he'd enjoyed it. A reward, perhaps, for dealing with black pudding for breakfast, despite being a "daft veggie".