HOLA! I was on holiday last week soaking up a dose of sunlight (you must remember it) in the Med.
I spotted all the hallmarks of a summer holiday.
Number one it actually appeared to be summer, which is a trick that anyone who holidayed in this sun-forsaken isle may have missed.
There were families complaining about the price of ice creams and cold drinks.
Moans about suncream, sand and sandwiches were also overheard.
But, and don’t say this too loud, there were British people smiling and speaking to strangers and even trying a foreign language.
There’s nothing like a Brit abroad – but not the for the old knotted hanky and deckchair image.
The new model is friendly, relaxed and willing to have a go at the lingo.
We all know that people walk around like a bulldog licking lemon juice from a nettle at home.
They have to get to work, pay the mortgage, worry about the price of petrol.
But maybe it’s the small things that cause the problems.
Can you imagine not having to open the post for a few days?
No trying to look through the little plastic window on the front of what could be some sort of bill or demand.
No pushing the Hoover round and stubbing your toe or getting something caught and having to turn it upside down and try to retrieve it while your fingers face being sucking into some sort of vortex.
Imagine no washing up. That means no complaining about people not scraping their plate. No complaints about how the liquid hasn’t bubbled and no complaints about water seeping inside your rubber glove.
Sounds fantastic, eh?
I think the lack of the minutiae of life is what made the holiday makers happy, rather than not having to go to work.
Imagine if you had a butler, chef, cleaner and gardener at home.
You’d get up and your toothbrush would already be covered in paste.
Getting dressed, imagine a properly ironed shirt and a pressed pair of socks whose creases could slice a pineapple.
Downstairs for breakfast – already prepared. Choice of continental or English.
While you’re out the house would be cleaned and tidied, your garden tended so that you don’t have to make the kids carry a flag in order to not lose them in the long grass of the Huddersfield Serengeti.
Home in the evening, meal ready, then washed up.
Bath run and your towel warmed on the radiator.
Bliss, eh.
Trouble is your gardener, chef, cleaner and butler don’t come cheap.
The holiday would be a thing of the past with the money your domestic army would cost.
But could you imagine how much they’d want a break from your demands? If it’s the small stuff that causes the problems – and your day is all small stuff ...
Think I’ll stick as I am and save up for next year – I’ve still got a 10 Euro note burning a hole in my pocket!
