Let’s face it, our beaches are proper shit compared to those abroad. Why did their stones somehow turn into lovely fine sand that runs between your toes!? (but also always finds a way into your sandwich) and we get these stupid little boulder things that lull you into a false sense of ‘this isn’t so bad’ then BAM hit you with knee buckling pain but only on your third and seventh step… making it impossible to walk barefoot. Not that many people are stupid enough to go swimming in our cold water. If you got the 5th and 7th step thing, sorry. THAT’S YOU. 

It is for this reason that, in this blog post, I want to advocate for ‘breaks in Britain’ (that already sounds terrible). Here’s the thing, I don’t know if it is the same for you but I have strangely enjoyed not being able to travel anywhere during Covid. SHOCK. Now I do want to caveat this by saying I am very fortunate that all of my immediate family and most of my close friends live in the UK. I am also very privileged to have travelled extensively both for work and fun. I want to recognise that for families separated, awful. Eighteen year olds looking forward to their gap yah… I don’t see anyone clapping for those guys, the ultimate in sacrifice, surely?! Absolute nightmare. But, when Covid forced me to slow down and stay put, it was actually just what this desire ridden little restless plan boy, needed. A reset. In the absence of any jet set. ‘And Breaks for Britain’s strapline was born! Fucking boom, I am nailing this.’

It got me into wondering if the ‘holiday’ should be revamped. Yes, there are better climates than ours. Maybe all the other climates. But I am not sure how relaxing thinking ‘I’ve got to get a tan so everybody is still asking me in a month’s time if I’ve been away so I can tell them all about it… AGAIN’ really is. Or, how (when being somewhere totally new) I feel like I need to tick off certain things. “But I don’t know what I could be missing out on!?” Especially when this quest gets more difficult when you realise the good people of your holiday destination didn’t get the memo I was coming, or that I am on a tight schedule to relax and have seemingly made little to no effort to learn my language in time!?

Obviously I am being silly and totally understand people wanting to travel and get away, I think it’s only human nature.

The point is my memories of going away are often a little stressful, at times. Rushing to catch the plane. The ordeal of the sardine can full of farts possibly crashing at any moment but being ok with that as… ‘how the hell did so many morons make it on to one flight anyway!’ Landing and then trying to meet the wild but very important expectations you have set and woe betide the food not being as good as the Trip Advisor reviews DON’T THEY KNOW WE ARE ONLY HERE FOR TEN NIGHTS, DOES ANYBODY KNOW HOW YOU SAY I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS SHIT. Then returning and years later reliving the holiday break and realising the best bits were actually the shit bits, when stuff did go wrong and the only thing left to do was turn to your loved ones and have a really good laugh. Nothing kicks stress into touch like a really good laugh! That’s science, you can’t argue with science and if you do make sure you have a holiday break booked with some people who can make you laugh, ok I made my point.

So as things start to reopen, and all the travel companies bombard us with subtle messages that ‘hey look over here, everybody is having such a nice time in Turkey, Dubai… you should… Spain, Peru, Egypt… really join them… Portugal, Brazil, Mexi-oh no wait. You can’t. Because you’re there and we’re all here. Probably having sex with your wife. Sorrrryyyyyyyy’

Just remember, you don’t have to miss out on anything. Let me explain:

• No one has ever gone to the North of England with ANY expectations. Which explains why some of the best people I know and have met reside there (maybe). I mean they barely even bother marketing the place and why should they!? When I can do it so well for them #BreaksinBritain
• That tans are available INSTANTLY, by walking into every second shop on the High Street in Leigh-on-Sea, Essex. Facts. I’ve seen it, it’s a staggering Spas per Capita. 
• If you really still want that sense of culture then get yourself to Glasgow but don’t wear your kilt backwards all day like I did because the sick bastards won’t tell you… unless they did!? Glaswegian isn’t an option on Duo Lingo, yet.

Failing all that of course… just jump on a plane. Aviation accounts for around 5% of global warming which is lower than I thought. Although just 3% of the global population take regular flights, which actually might make it easier to address? My concern is; you had better believe countries coming up through the ranks are going to insist it’s their turn and join this number. It’s hard to tell them they can’t, when we could. No one likes that guy and certainly no one is going to look up to that guy for moral guidance.

I quit my jet-setting job of ten years just over three years ago, and recently moved out of London to live by the sea. Both decisions absolutely terrified me. I actually employed a careers coach just to help me exit my job as had ZERO idea what I wanted to do next. I discussed and we explored the possibility of me becoming an actor (I dabble darling) “what else would you like to explore?” “Maybe I can just get paid to gram maybe!? Pleeeeeaaaaaaassssssseeeeeee.” Both ended up being nice to entertain, but ultimately not for me. During the course of our sessions together I quit anyway and just jumped off…. head first… flying into the abyss of the unknown. Recommend by the way, although maybe not selling it well. This all occurring after getting sober and deciding I was done with the 9 to 5 ting.

As I retrain to become a Fitness & Wellbeing Coach and write this, whilst listening to the sea against the shore… I can honestly say I feel quite content with little to no desire to go anywhere right now. Which is convenient, because I have to study and well, we can’t.

If not ‘morally disengaging’ (also known as shirking your responsibility) means; I have to go to Centre Parks, swim down a lazy river in the middle of a forest, cycle to play crazy golf then finally retire for the evening where I take a deep inhale of that incredible pine aroma (no essence of guilt). Then that’s ok by me. And you bet your ass I am going to feel good about that too, as I stare up at the stars in plane view against the backdrop of little to no light pollution and take a sip of my beverage “you owe me one now Universe… them be the rules…”.