26 May / What holiday?
Last year I experienced the best holiday I’ve ever had the pleasure to laze my way through.
There was sun and sand. There was good company and good food. There was no work and plenty of play.
If I close my eyes now I can still picture key moments from that holiday. I can feel the sun on my shoulders as I read on a lounger after taking a dip in the pool. I can feel my teeth saying NO and my belly saying YES and them fighting it out over a bowl of ice cream. I can remember walking in the sand in my bare feet, and the feel of my rough skin being worn smoother and smoother each day.
Last week I was on holiday. I can’t even remember what we did.
There was a trip to Hanmer Springs and a dip in the hot pools, but aside from that and an excellent Butter Chicken and Naan Bread I can’t pinpoint a single moment.
Where do they go?
I scrimp and save my holidays, and when it comes to the glorious days when I spend them wildly, I can’t even recall what I paid them out for.
I’d say it was like gambling, if I ever spent money on gambling and could therefore personally relate the two experiences together in a believable way.
I’m not complaining, and I’m certainly not forsaking any future holidays in some gesture of despair, but wouldn’t it be good if holidays could be ordered over the internet (I mean metaphorically; I am aware you can book and pay for holidays over the internet) that catered exactly to your needs?
I need as least three days of being so relaxed that I can’t tell where the couch ends and I begin. I want a pool so enticing that I won’t get out even when my fingers pucker up like a young dog’s asshole. I’ll pay extra for vanilla ice cream that’s melted just enough to let your spoon run through it with no resistance.
Oh, and I’ll take eight pounds of weight gain that I’m too happy to care about, thanks.