It’s the week after Christmas and we’re slumped watching TV with leftover turkey – a bit dry this year – and random picky bits. “Hold My Hand”, Jess Glynne’s iconic theme tune for the Jet2Holidays ads, blasts out, our eyes assaulted by ecstatic couples, jubilant families, and grinning empty nesters jumping into swimming pools, disembarking planes, dashing across beaches, staring into sunsets.
The next ad is for Disneyland; 25 per cent off for a family of four (without mentioning it could still cost £10k in summer). “Disneyland!” my two daughters (12 and seven) shout joyfully in unison. “Can we go?!”
We still haven’t taken the decorations down. The remote control car under the tree needs charging, already another device that doesn’t work and nobody can find the charger for. It’s only just been Christmas! It was barely a week ago? But it’s started. The holiday pressure that kicks off right after Christmas and continues into January.
I think about my pitiful bank balance, and feel that familiar lurch in my tummy. Like every other family, we’ve overspent. Meanwhile, the TV is showcasing yet another ad (a cruise ship the size of Westfield that includes a theme park – sounds like hell but obviously a dream for kids).
On bitterly cold days in the park and at the schoolgate, I meet the other mums and after a quick Christmas debrief: “Where are you off for half term?” one asks me. “We’ve just booked a package, and then are thinking about France for summer – maybe Club Med. We went to Greece last year and it was far too warm.”
I think about being in the position where climate is the only thing you worry about when booking a holiday. We were lucky enough last year to go on a press trip as a family (the first time I’ve ever done this) and the rest of our holidays were either spent in London at home or staying with family in Suffolk.
I don’t remember my parents ever booking big summer holidays right after Christmas – in fact, we just didn’t go on holiday half as much as families seem to now. In the summer I would go to my Gran’s in Coventry as my mum worked full time, and Gran would carry on her normal business (shopping, making food, tidying). There were no activities planned and it was very low key.
When did it become the norm to go abroad for Christmas, half term and Easter as well as summer? How can so many people have the cash right now?
One mum I know has in fact just returned from Disneyland – I didn’t even know it was open over Christmas and can’t imagine the associated costs. Another tells me she’s booked skiing in half term. “It’s a wonderful time to travel to New York,” another tells me on the school run. “They’re just the right age to appreciate it.”
“I don’t really like doing long haul anymore,” I say. “Not with kids.” (Meanwhile I have a disturbing excel spreadsheet running through my brain, totting up how much each of these trips costs.)
As ever, middle-class parents often moan about the price of holidays, how prohibitively expensive they are, and extortionate price rises during school holidays – but then go on said holidays, and in truth are clearly unconcerned about the budget.
Whenever I mention that we’re doing a UK break this year, they will sometimes intone with: “Oh that’s sweet. Yes it’s nice to stay close to home sometimes, right?” Some even pretend that they are in the same position – but then it turns out they’re going to a luxury hotel in the Cotswolds or a friend’s enormous summer house. (Why can’t I have a loaded, generous friend to offer the same?)
The reality is that I can’t afford pricey holidays, especially just after Christmas. “My friend is on a cruise to Barbados,” one of my kids announces. She goes on to tell me that another friend is waterskiing. I remember how, in primary school, I told my friends that my mum and dad were Agnetha and Bjorn from Abba. “I think they’re fibbing,” I reply. “Nobody goes to Barbados over Christmas unless they’re Princess Margaret and she’s not around anymore. They’re probably just trying to impress you.”
“Where do you think we’ll go this year?” she asks. I shrug. I’m busy looking in the kitchen drawer for the toy car charger.
I do wonder whether all these lavish holidays are actually good for children in the long run. One of the wonderful things about them is that they’re naturally unmaterialistic – what they really want from a holiday is to be with you, to have some space to play and to relax.
Every parent will tell you that they’ve taken their children on an expensive excursion or holiday, and the thing they remember is the train ride home, or their dad stubbing his toe. They’ll also tell you that despite what the adverts suggest, family holidays can go wrong or be stressful – there can be illness, bad moods, arguments. At least if this happens on a smaller, less extravagant holiday, you don’t feel you’ve wasted your savings.
In our age of comparison, it can be hard to stay strong and remember your values and common sense. But when feeling pangs of guilt over holidays and experiences I just can’t afford, I try to say to myself: “good for you, but not for me”.
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