I just got back from a week of sunshine, mojito and pool lounging. We stayed at a fabulous resort in Turkey which bills itself as heaven on earth and judging by our time there, they are not far wrong.

Heaven it may be, and for a sloth like me it’s pretty relaxing. Nevertheless, holidays are not relaxing experiences perse.

If you’ve got kids it’s a 24 hour cycle of nappy changing, sun cream application, getting them to eat/ sleep/ wake up, intercepting their pool side kamikaze missions, all while being shouted at: ‘Watch me!’

If you don’t have children you still need to factor in the travel, cocktail hangovers, sunburn, mosquito bites and potential Delhi (or in my case Barcelona) Belly.

Sounds like I’m complaining, but I’m not. I’m simply clarifying that holidaying is a job in itself. A fantastic job, a voluntary job, but still a job that should be taken for its face value.

As a committed hedonist I take holidaying very seriously. I research the best hotels, scout the coolest locations, pre-book my spa treatments. And then I do my utmost to relax.

Recently three different friends complained about their other halves pushing them to start a hobby / new pursuit / second job (third if we add holidaying).

Well I have one thing to say to you guys: sod off.

The guys over at the Oxford English Dictionary have it right when they define a holiday as ‘an extended period of leisure and recreation…’ In a world of fast food, 24 hour social media, omnipresent WiFi, bleeping phones (‘bleeping’ in the literal as well as metaphorical sense) a holiday should be just that.

Some people abhor pool lounging, many detest sunbathing and others suffer severe allergic reactions to relaxation.

Well I’m sorry for you but please don’t make us holiday hedonists suffer. By all means, start a company from the poolside, write a novel, do a triathlon. And while you’re at it, get me a mojito.

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