A QUESTION OF HOLIDAYS

Winter seems to drag me down nowadays, it didn’t use to but maybe that was because my life was filled with working for a living and keeping my head well and truly above water. Generally focused on moving forward with life, family and work, anything on the periphery didn’t get noticed because there just weren’t enough hours in the day. Now retired it seems that winter is when I wait for daylight and hope for a fine day, when I might dream of holidays in a warmer climate, foster friendships and sit in the garden with family visitors. Winter is also a time when the ailments of old age kick in and maybe I am at my worst in regards being irritable with the world.

Are things really changing for the worst in our society or is it just a cycle of life which each generation passes through? What is wrong with the world? Do we want those who are struggling to struggle more? Do we want the disabled to have their benefits cut while those who commit fraud get a way with it?  Do we want the changes to the health service to involve the private sector? In my view a dangerous move one which will only foster greed and despair.  Also, shouldn’t our government be dealing with immigration laws? It is sad to see immigrants who think they are coming to a better way of life ending up living in hovels and being charged phenomenal rents for inadequate living accommodation.  Surely we do need to draw the line somewhere because of high unemployed and a rise in child poverty. I admit I’m torn on this question because I believe the world should belong to everyone. Teresa May the Conservative Home Secretary made a terrible mistake when she allowed the dropping of security at airports opening the gates to immigrants who come seeking a better life. These few and many more problems flood through my mind on a daily basis.  Maybe it’s time for a holiday?

I REALLY DO NEED A HOLIDAY preferably on a desert island where I would be away from anything that disturbs me.  Recently however I have not wanted to fly which leaves us grounded in more ways than one. We have a caravan which is a wonderful way to see Britain but I did use to like flying to the sun and a nice hotel where I could be waited on, lovely! With bed linen changed and a cool room protected by heavily lined curtains and air conditioning. Memories of sitting for as long as I wanted under a sunshade with my page turner of a novel, allowing myself to scoff all the foods I love with the excuse of being on holiday. I didn’t even mind scrabbling for a sun lounger and love hotels which cater for couples only.

Sadly, although I do want to holiday abroad I have come to dread the idea of travelling to my destination. I just wish Star Trek’s ‘beam me up Scotty’ could transport me to some sunnier climate. I hate the very thought of airports, all that pushing and shoving, the level of anxiety at each aspect of the proceedings, booking in and being asked if we have packed the cases ourselves, ridiculous! No my butler did it for me. Queue again for security where removing leather belts and certain types of shoes go beyond the pale and having to put lipsticks in a polythene bag, humbug! When you’re my age or older, bending down to take your shoes off is not only difficult but on some level degrading. Hustled like sheep from one area to another only to find that although you have arrived three hours early prior to booking in, the flight has been delayed by several hours. Eventually with relief you embark only to be squeezed like sardines into seats so narrow one wouldn’t be able to make a quick escape in fire or flood.  It gets worse, especially when you are the bearer of a grand derrière, squashed in further with your safety belt tightly fastened, along with keeping elbows tucked in for a minimum of three hours, none of which constitutes a pleasurable experience. My husband has long legs so travelling in a plane means he has to sit with legs akimbo in order to rest comfortably because his knees are almost under his chin in some airlines. On our last flight I truly lost it last when some berk sitting in front dropped his seat back into the recliner position so that his head rest was almost on top of me. I saw red and pushed his seat back into the upright position exclaiming loudly into his ear, you cannot do that in this sardine can dear, have a little consideration for me sitting here behind you. He seemed more surprised than angry and actually apologised.

 I remember flying being a pleasant experience with plenty of leg room, reasonable service, a little pillow and even a blanket. Also warm towels to wipe your hands after your miniature meal, oh dear, how old I sound. Nowadays I just want to bang the heads together of the flight attendants who are disinterested, there only to pack us in and to collect rubbish before you have finished with it, to sell the packet of nuts which were once complimentary and take as much money from you as possible in the short time you are with them.  Flying today is what my husband calls ‘a means to an end’ but then you have to come back again don’t you? Endurance test at the beginning then tolerated again on the return. One special gift from the airways on flying home is developing some God awful cold because the air conditioning re-circulated all the germs carried by one and all on that flight. Hey Ho! Back to the caravan.