I AM one of the many Brits who, by choice, because of work commitments, or a combination of both, am unaffected by bank holidays. Put simply, they mean “nowt” to me.
However, that doesn’t prevent me from taking an interest in what goes on in the wider world, and I felt considerable pity for the poor souls, and apparently there were millions of them, who ventured away from home last Friday to spend the break in the UK.
They must have cursed their luck as travel chaos and horrid weather consigned the most recent British bank holiday to an already long list of “lost” weekends.
Lengthy delays to rail services, mind-numbing tailbacks on motorways and other major roads, and cold temperatures and rain can only have added to the frustration and disappointment when travellers finally arrived at their destinations.
Those with young families deserve the most sympathy. It’s a long time since Mrs Shawcross and I were marooned in Blackpool with our three daughters during a particularly unforgiving spell of typical English summer weather.
It bucketed down for most of the week, and I was bankrupted by our desperate searches for “kiddy entertainment” in the Tower and amusement arcades. The latter emporiums are anything but “amusing” for dads who spend what seems a lifetime with hands in pockets, fumbling for cash. I know. I’ve been there.
Why do we do it? Go away on a British bank holiday I mean, not spend money on children, that’s an essential part of parenting. I can’t remember the last time we had a lengthy spell of sunshine, and it’s not because I am a senior citizen whose memory isn’t as sharp as it once was.
The summer of 2011 lasted for around two weeks in April, as I recall, and we are currently suffering the wrath of Mother Nature, exacting revenge for our thinking we had the game licked and that summer had come early.
It did . . . but went just as quickly.
Still, for every minus there’s a plus, and at least we should be spared the usual bleating about shortages and rationing from water companies, unless, that is, they are still allowing the rain to drain away.
Somehow the UK cannot retain enough water to see us over a prolonged dry spell, so perhaps we should all give up a silent prayer that the weather doesn’t improve.
That thought kept crossing my mind as I paddled my dinghy up and down Chorley Old Road on shopping expeditions.
I know it would be scant consolation to the weary hordes making their way home after the bank holiday, but sometim
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