I’m going to let you into a secret. A secret that is, it seems, as shameful as admitting that you enjoy kicking kittens, or would rather eat vegetables than chocolate.
I don’t like travelling.
I know, it’s terrible, isn’t it? But it’s true. When all my sixth-form friends were pondering their gap year options, I just couldn’t wait to get to university. When, on the forums I frequented at the time, fellow wedding planners were booking their honeymoons to Australia, Borneo and NYC, I was looking at the Thomas Cook brochure for the Dominican Republic. And now, I see my friends taking their children to Florida, the Jordan, Namibia, while the furthest I’ll go with mine is the Med.
Don’t get me wrong, I love holidays. But for me, a holiday is about getting somewhere as quickly as possible and staying there – with perhaps a day out or two. On top of that, I have *absolutely* no idea where I would start with booking an unpackaged holiday. I wouldn’t even know how to rent a car at my chosen destination, let alone book a flight, source a suitable, uninfested apartment and transport a family of four between those two locations.
My lack of wanderlust makes me feel incredibly unsophisticated and unworthy. As far as I can tell, admitting that you don’t like travelling marks you out as the worst sort of ignoramus. But I can’t help it. And my family is no better. Both husband and son travel incredibly badly, and given the performance The Baby puts in when strapped into her car seat, I’m guessing she’ll be no better.
So shoot me. We’re not as uncultured as our propensity to picking holidays from the Thomson brochure would imply. We’re bright people, we read, we talk, we watch QI, for goodness sake. We just don’t travel (unless you count Center Parcs…).
This all makes this week’s Gallery a bit of a challenge – especially as I prefer to photograph people than landscapes – but I do have evidence that holidays in the UK can be good. Not as good as Africa or the Middle East, for sure, but good enough for us.