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We should lament the loss of spontaneity in our lives

Unplanned moments are what makes holidays – and, indeed, life – worth living - getty
Unplanned moments are what makes holidays – and, indeed, life – worth living - getty

Covid has induced an array of personality changes in all of us. Those of a previously calm disposition now jump like they’ve been wired into the mains supply for the Wembley floodlights should someone cough within 100 feet of them. People previously known for their social swagger now find a weekly trip to Waitrose to be an almost unbearable sensory overload.

I only truly became aware of my own personality overhaul last week while on holiday in the Scottish borders. Previously I took my holiday behavioural norms from Jim Royle; I was lazy, I woke up late, I luxuriated in the most comfortable spots I could find and never, ever planned anything in advance.

Now, I’m finding I have to be the kind of busybody that even Miss Marple would swerve. Because to do anything at all on holiday in the era of ‘new normal’, including, as it turns out, eating and drinking, means that my previous commitment to spontaneity must be ruthlessly expunged.

I won’t embarrass the owner of the bed and breakfast where I stayed by naming them as they were clearly trying their best. But being told that I had a ‘strict 25-minute window’ to eat breakfast which I needed to ‘book in’ the night before hardly conspires to create a freewheeling, ‘all hands off deck’ vacation vibe.

All the local pubs and restaurants, naturally, required a couple of phone calls and, in one case, a reassurance that I wasn’t ill, before I could get a table for a simple drink or meal. Day trips were also devoid of the impulse gene. My lifelong breezy assurances that ‘they’ll just let us in’, which have served me remarkably well over the years when it comes to gaining entry to everything from theme parks to National Trust properties no longer applies. These days, even just finding somewhere that’s open for business at all is a victory of sorts.

We now have to Marie Kondo our holidays; planning, booking, arranging, phoning, sorting and ridding ourselves of anything extraneous. The problem is that those unplanned vacation moments, whether they be an invite into someone’s home, a hug from a wonderful waiter or an unexpected romantic connection in a cocktail bar are, very often, the highlights of our trips.

No longer. I’ve been forced to bid farewell to my Royle Family approach to mini-breaks. I’ve now got to be organised, efficient and effective in making my holidays work. Now I wake up each day with a timetable of events already in place. There’s no doubt that my vacation last week was more structured, logical and orderly. But I can’t help but lament that, in some ways, it just wasn’t quite as much fun.