I've never really been a holiday person to be honest. Sure... I've enjoyed holidays that I've been on, But I can go years and years without even considering one. I think it's to do with the fact that my family never really did much holidaying when I was growing up. We already lived in a hot climate, so there was no need to travel for that, and as a kid... you can have just as much fun with a cardboard box and some marker pens as you can by travelling to the beach.
Well, at least I know I could.
In fact, I find beaches in general to be a bit annoying and always have. The only holidays I remember genuinely enjoying were camping trips. Mostly because they were times where my dad truly came out of himself and tried to connect with me. I'm not trying to paint some sort of sob story here, but my dad seemed more at home in the woods, or fishing on lakes and rivers, than he did at his actual home... And it was nice. Camping trips are different in America, because there is a lot more wildlife and nature to experience. The British countryside can be beautiful, but it is mostly tamed, so not really camping country.
Back on to holidays in the more general sense, For me... unless it's for some sort of cultural experience, (travelling somewhere historic etc) the idea of trying to get away from what you do confuses me.
Normally, I do the things that I do because I want to do them. So getting away from them for a long period of time doesn't make much sense. In actuality, it usually stresses me out because I'm off in some other place, powerless to achieve anything.
Regardless of all this anti holiday ranting, I shall endeavour to enjoy my week away. Even if it's just for my girlfriend Kate's sake. We are off to the Canary Islands, (aka Hot Britain) and I intend to, if nothing else, come back with the ability to breathe underwater.