Ashy Skies: When Holidays Never End - by Dea Birkett

I was listening to the radio today - while trying to find matching socks in the laundry basket - when a woman who was stranded in Spain due to ‘ash in air’ was interviewed. ‘I always said I hoped our holiday would never end. Now I’ve changed my mind,’ she said.

The most interesting aspect of the recent volcanic eruption in Iceland is how it’s exposed our attitudes towards going away. In theory, being stuck on a beach in Thailand or a hotel in Manhattan for a week longer than expected isn’t a hardship. But when it actually happens, it’s far from appealing. However much we might like to imagine we want to spend all our lives spread out on a sun lounger with no To Do list, that isn’t our dream life at all. For many holidaymakers, and particularly those with kids, each extra enforced day living the dream has felt like a nightmare.

The whole point about holidays is that they don’t last forever; they’re different from the everyday. However much a cosy hotel may advertise it’s a ‘home away from home’, we only want to stay there because it’s nothing like where we live. Even if we seek familiar food for our kids when we’re away, preferring to stay at accommodation that has a full English on the menu, we go there because at least the weather is different to our own back garden. We eat our fried eggs in the sun.

And however much we imagine we want to throw off all routine, we only want to do that for a fortnight. If holidaying became our ordinary life, we’d want to escape it. I sometimes long for the six-week summer school break to end and to return to the comfort of knowing we all have to go to bed and get up at a certain time. Regularity – and alarm clocks – are good for the soul.

So I’m going to appreciate our next family holiday a little more. I won’t spend the last few days wishing we could stay longer. I’ll just be glad for the break, and even gladder to be going home.