WHEN Gordon Brown takes his family to the seaside this week, it won't be surprising if he finds it difficult to switch off and relax. I can assure him he'll be far from alone. It seems more and more people are spending more time planning, saving up for and worrying about their holidays than actually enjoying them.
The countdown to that longed-for holiday has become as stressful as the run-up to Christmas. At work there are e-mails to reply to, tasks to delegate and loose ends to tie up – while piles of washing and shopping mount up at home. Then there's the st
ress of queues and delays at the airport, or traffic jams on the A1.
A suspiciously exact survey recently found that the average Briton takes two days, nine hours and 25 minutes to relax once they arrive at their dream destination. It's so stressful actually getting there, we only start to enjoy it almost halfway through the third day.
This made my heart sink, as I've just booked two days away in the south of France. By this calculation, I'll only be starting to really relax when I'm on the airport bus coming home.
The same survey, by a mobile home company, found people spend an average of 18 days choosing their destination, although they only spend nine days actually there. Then they spend six hours picking the hotel, and eight hours washing, ironing and packing.
At this rate most of us will never get round to any of the sightseeing or activities we've carefully researched.
For the female of the species, the pre-holiday task list is even longer. We're constantly bullied by magazines into "shaping up for summer" and told our bodies need to be waxed, buffed and pedicured before we set foot on the beach. Even women in their sixties now find themselves compared to Helen Mirren in a bikini. It's enough to make you long to wrap up warm on a windy Fife beach.
Of course some people just give up on the planning and opt for the same destination every year. My parents religiously returned to the same cottage in the West Highlands for the first two weeks of July – a tradition they kept up until they bought it 25 years later. But the week before still included frantic shopping, packing and washing, before squeezing four reluctant children into the car for a six-hour journey.
Yet a fortnight away is no longer the norm. With our culture of long working hours, many people see holidays as an indulgence, to be squashed in between other commitments.
The same survey depressingly found that 25 per cent of us never fully relax because of work and money worries at home.
It makes me wonder if, like continental-style drinking, it's something we could learn from our European neighbours. Perhaps living in a sunnier climate all year round means the French and Italians don't find it so difficult when it comes to relaxing. They're already used to putting their family life first, and enjoying long lunch breaks at work.
When I was working in Rome, everyone knew most of the city shut down for the month of August. My favourite restaurant put up a sign saying "chiuso per vacanze", while shops, schools and offices all shut their doors.
Families – including grandparents, aunts and uncles – all decamped to the seaside or the mountains together and spent most of the month doing very little. It made babysitting less of a problem.
Of course, the downside was us poor journalists were left with very little to write about. The Italian television news was dominated by pictures of people sunning themselves on the beach and stories about the weather. But for most people, a month with nothing happening might be just what the doctor ordered.
It's the splice of lifeWE'RE now in the peak wedding season, but the marriage rate is falling in Scotland yet again.
At the same time the average couple is splashing out £18,500 on their big day – more than many people earn in a year.
And don't forget that that's just the average, which means many people are spending much more.
When I was the lucky person given the job of editing the wedding supplement on a local paper, I was amazed by the size of this industry. I was deluged with calls from venues, planners, and companies offering handmade favours, chocolate fountains and stationary.
I remember one gushing bride telling me how every detail – down to the groom's waistcoat – had to be pink.
At the same time I know several couples who say they would love to get married, but can't afford to just yet.
Yet some of the nicest weddings are the ones where the cake is homemade and the groom's mate's band plays the music.
Maybe people would enjoy their day more if they accepted that everything doesn't have to be perfect.
After all, it's who's there that will make it special, not the food or the table decorations.
The full article contains 848 words and appears in Edinburgh Evening News newspaper.
