Happy Holidays ra-ra-ra

How many of us look forward to going away on holiday? That precious time when, leaving all your troubles and mundane chores behind, you venture forth to destinations known or unknown so as to have wonderful time before returning to the daily grind called life as such ecstatic ventures come to an end.

The theory is that when you return you will be refreshed, invigorated and keen to resume normal life before dreaming of your next holiday so that the process may begin all over again. The bigger the better, we say to ourselves as we begin to consider our next annual, and let’s go somewhere exotic and adventurous, or go on a world tour so that we might sample the world to the full. Finally, if it is for a really special occasion why not go the whole hog and strain the bank balance to the full. So many holidays and so many destinations, but how wise is it to go on holiday, especially a bigger holiday, and might it not be better, if you live in safe, secure, and pleasant surroundings, to simply stay at home?

Let’s just step back a moment from our dreams of sandy beaches, high mountains, rain forest expeditions, or lounging on or around the sea, what do we actually see? From the smallest virus to the giant redwood, and from the humble if evolutionary glorious Tardigrade to ourselves as mankind are we all not governed by the same need to survive, and in the process, to pass on our genes so that new life might arise? In doing so do we not all need a reliable and sustainable supply of food, water, and a territorial area that we know and trust like the back of our hand, or similar appendage?

I would say that all life is aware of such factors, but I admit that, occasionally in life, new and untested territories must be sourced, defended, and then held. In order to survive a living form may have to relocate in order to survive or seek regeneration. That’s life, and that’s nature, you might say, in all its puzzling glory, but why do we deliberately go one step further, and, in doing so, push against nature’s remorseless ongoing tide?

Why is that, loaded up with overweight suitcases, we often go too far distant lands where do have little knowledge of the area we going to, even less knowledge of the local language, food and water supplies, and only a hazy knowledge of the local emergency or medical services should anything go wrong. Such an adventure seems daft enough when you consider what you are leaving behind you but add to this the unremitting joys of travelling to and from your destination, and the whole thing becomes insane. We hang around in airports before taking a flight that sticks up two fingers at mother nature, we lug ourselves aboard ships that we hope will not sink so as having to swim, and sit down in trains and/or coaches that, as rewgards sfe travel, are totally beyond our control. Yet that is nothing compared to what we do when we arrive.

 I cannot speak for other nations and cultures but, as reported in Travel Weekly, a new research group set up by Expedia , has found that we Brits have been named the worst behaved tourists in the world. Ignorant of local culture, loud, messy, and rude, are just a few characteristics banded around as regards us Brits, and to a degree I cannot help but agree. Yet even if such attributions are totally false, what do many of us do when we go abroad. How many of us seek out holidays in the sun, that oh so wonderful chance to lie on a beach, and benefit from the warming rays from the sun. That’s great if you come back all tanned and golden, but not so great when invasive melanoma begins to take hold. We go to English themed pubs, demand, sometimes quite loudly, that we be served eggs, bacon, pizza, and fish and chips on the side, and our grasp of local customs, cultures, and sensitivities is all to often so minimal as to be safely ignored.

Despite all this let us assume that, for once, we really have had a good time. We have embraced local culture, lived in absolute harmony with the resident population, and sampled all possible delights that are at hand, what awaits most of us on our return?

Sadly, are not holidays, even the best holidays akin to a boozy night out on the town, for is it not the case of the better the night the worse the hangover when sober reality returns? Just like going on holiday we plan such nights, both as regards venues and liquid consumption, and the kebab, burger, or curry at 2 a.m was a joy to consume and behold, but in the morning comes the painful reckoning, that horrible moment when your body reminds you of your unwise pleasures, sexual or otherwise from the night before. At least on returning from your holiday you may have a few pleasant memories. You have your pictures, your videos, and your selfies; and for a few days at least, you can bore everyone around you with holidays tales of what went right, and, invariably what went wrong; but such joys are transitory, for all to soon everyday life pushes such memories to one side. Oh it’s good to get home, we say as we slump onto or into our comfy sofas, and it’s get to get back to normal when all is said and done.

If it is that good, why go on holiday on the first place, and why leave behind such creature comforts, if you have any, of home?

Oh well, time to go now. Guess what, I’m about to pack to go on a 14 day cruise, with a cruise company that I have very sailed with, and to destinations largely unknown. It will be great, and I’m sure will have a wonderful silver wedding anniversary, but I’ll still leave you with a YouTube video link that shows you exactly what I mean when l say happy Holidays ha-ha-ha. Oh what joys!

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