IT'S A DAD'S LIFE:School holidays are a reminder that, for some of us, it's time to wind down
I THINK WE can assume by the alternating blizzards and tropical heat that summer is here in our globally warmed, temperate maritime climate. The easy run through rush-hour traffic and confused insects swirling on dust plains more suited to east Texas, are other signifiers. When we used to have seasons, summer started when it got a bit warmer and ended when it got a little cooler. Now summer thinks it is a guest star in the show that is the seasons and can pop up as easily in November as July. But one thing is constant - kids hanging round looking for entertainment.
We've done all right so far. The elder has been pacified with a week in sports camp (ie preparing and performing an ad hoc gymnastics/cabaret show in her own school hall due to rain, the star of which was a girl appropriately known as "Bendy Mary") and the following seven days on her first solo trip away to her country cousins. The younger is thrilled at having the spotlight to herself for a while, preening in splendid, temporary only-child isolation. Both of them excitedly anticipating a trip to the States next month. It's fair to say they are loving the summer.
Me too. One of the bonuses of the kids starting their school careers is the re-emergence of the academic year on to your calendar. Although your own work schedule doesn't alter remarkably, the mindset changes when you know the long break is upon you. It brings to mind those July mornings when you woke up as a child and knew you had nothing to do but roam, explore and cause mischief. Of course the missus and I cannot walk backroads and collect blackberries all day, but we can benefit vicariously from the kids' buzz. There is nothing radically different about our schedules, but there is a change in atmosphere. You half expect a note from the bank manager saying he's foregoing this month's mortgage payment because he thinks we should all have some leeway to chill.
If it was any way possible I'd have us all on trains, planes and automobiles every week of these few months seeking out new places and feasting on the local fare, but our limitations are self-enforced because of our on-going involvement in working to pay the man.
I read the papers and listen to the radio and marvel at the discussions about whether or not it's worthwhile to bring the kids on holiday, whether you get any sort of break at all.
The kids are the holiday. Sure, you have to mobilise a small army to get them moving but they're more adaptable and adventurous than we tend to give them credit for. The other option is to find somewhere with a "great kids' club". Marvellous, fly thousands of miles away to hand the sprogs over to untrained, semi-resentful 16-year-olds for eight hours a day while you melt by a pool.
I travelled long before breeding entered the equation, not as much as I should have, but a little. My cynical, seen it all on TV, eyes were hard to impress. Sightseeing left me cold, the days were preludes to long nights of indulgence without any concern at waking the next morning, at least until I rejoined the milling throng on my return home.
I dreaded giving up my independent travel to the demands of screaming brats, of spending my precious holiday hours pandering to their needs, queuing to be fleeced in Disneyworld, gawping at Ice Capades and eating from the conveyor belt of nuggets and pizza slices. I paled at the thought of being contained within a metal cylinder as it hurtled through the sky and they screamed for release.
To my delight this has not come true, in fact they have reawakened the thrill of travel for me. We can hark back to the days when the act of international travel was still glamorous, before it became an act of endurance. But they regard an airport or train station as the starting point of excitement, rather than the barriers to fun. Of course the smooth path can be damaged by unforeseen delays or baggage problems but these were always a part of the travel experience. To a child, sometimes an extra six hours in a stopover is as exciting as the destination itself. They can roll with things we deem unpardonable. Ten years ago I would rather have had two weeks in a Bangkok holding cell to the holiday we have planned. Now I'm counting the days.