I have what some might say is a major problem. (I don’t do holidays or vacations as our American friends say). When I say ‘I don’t do holidays or vacations’ what I mean is I don’t like holidays or vacations. I go on them (reluctantly) but that’s only because they are arranged for me. The way I figure it is the money is already spent therefore I don’t really have much of a choice. I am, you should know, apart from being a Curmudgeon also a bit of a miser and the thought of money wasted, lost or even spent, drives me mad.
So, as I was saying, I go.
Under protest. For the sake of my understanding Other-Half, I have to say, I do try. I do try to have (i believe the expression is) ‘a good time’ but it doesn’t work. Always, I cannot wait to get back home where I can be miserable in familiar surroundings.
I ought to say at this point that the weather makes absolutely no difference. The sun (like the so-called newspaper) holds no attraction for me and to be honest, I like rain so as you can imagine, the British climate suits me very well.
More than a day of sun especially in a country that knows nothing else, ‘does’ as we say in the UK….’…my head in’. I cannot understand how anyone with a beating heart can bear to have that great yellow thing beating down on them every day-lit hour. It sits there smirking. Vaporising everything within range of its deadly rays, drying things up that shouldn’t be dry and if it feels like it, burning things to a frazzle. Of course, I am aware that the sun is life-giving but come on, a joke is a joke and there’s only so much health anyone can take.
An educational break.
[I believe it was the painter Turner who cried out on his death-bed ‘That the Sun was God’. This was obviously a crafty ploy to add mystery and make sure that his paintings, which I’m sure you are aware of contained a lot of light, continued selling after his death. It would have made much more sense to shout ‘Wet is Good’ (he was good at atmospheric conditions of all sorts so he would still sell), when one considers we cannot live without water. If the sun hid behind a large cloud for the next thousand years we would still survive and think of the fortune we would save in sun-cream].
But holidays or vacations are the thing. Hot or cold I cannot be doing with them. For me they are unnecessary interruptions. Even when I was a working Curmudgeon coming up to his yearly break I dreaded the holiday. The thought of not working for the next two weeks was wonderful but the fear of having to spend it ‘away’ was terrifying.
[I would have nightmares in the days leading up to the holiday about staying in a Bed & Breakfast my wife might have booked. I felt physically sick at the thought of coming downstairs to a dining room full of strangers all munching noisily away at toast. In my dream they would all look up at the same time. The munching would cease for a brief moment as they studied me and the memsahib for a second or two through their piggy eyes. The moment would pass and they would begin their infernal munching again].
The memsahib and me have over our many years together, developed an understanding as far as holidays go. I go but do not partake.
Thankfully, B & B’S are a thing of the past. We have graduated to hotels. And while she swims or lounges around in the accursed sun, I can sit in the darkness and coolness reading a book, watching the TV or just lounge around cursing my luck and wishing I was home again.