The Daily Telegraph - Saturday - Travel
Christmas could do with a makeover
Travelling to see relatives is off the cards but Anna Hart relishes the chance to do things differently
First the bad news: we are facing Christmas in the thick of an ongoing global pandemic, trying to celebrate at a time when celebrations kill people. Now the good news: we have an official reprieve from the emotional blackmail of distant relatives, obligatory work “get-togethers” and the pressure to “catch up” with old friends.
I live in Kent, Tier 3, and am as entangled in governmental restrictions as an Andrex puppy. But in some ways, this Christmas I get to rip up my festive rule book. I am allowed to do things completely differently, as I have no choice.
I’m not one of those columnists who is too classy or icy for something as common as Christmas. Nope, I adore it. I adore my close-knit family, I adore the work booze-ups, I adore the naff lights in shops, I adore the period dramas on telly, I adore the tinsel, the adverts, the bottles of Shloer – the whole seasonal shebang. In my early 20s (thanks to a couple of life-threatening accidents abroad in my more gung-ho adventurer years), I decided henceforth to prioritise family and friends over work or romance or other such distractions.
So, any other year I’d be revving up for a journey to my sister’s house in California, or my brother’s place in Yorkshire, or my parents’ home back in Ireland; wherever a majority of Harts could congregate. This year, California is obviously off the cards. Northern Ireland will possibly only emerge from a strict circuit-breaker lockdown on Dec 22, and hopping on a crowded flight from Tier 3 to visit my retired parents is not the most relaxing prospect. And my brother is working in the ICU at Bradford Royal Infirmary. He is predictably exhausted, and the thought of bringing Covid home, fresh from the wards, to serve up to his entire family, isn’t the most festive of thoughts either.
Faced with these options, we all decided that Christmas would feel far more Christmassy in March, or April, anytime when we can all gather and do what Christmas is actually about: hugging people we like, sharing platefuls of food, having lengthy, animated conversations right in each others’ faces, passing boxes of chocolate around as we watch TV, going on fun excursions to places that are actually open, and forgetting whose glass of champagne belongs to whom and taking a big swig anyway. If we can’t gather as a family on these terms, we will take a rain check.
I am thoroughly sad to be missing my family this Christmas, but if there is one thing to be grateful for in 2020, it’s that many of us had certain old habits smashed to smithereens. We all had to change our routines, scramble out of
certain ruts and bin entrenched expectations. It has been a year of, um, “surprises”, but the biggest surprise of all is how well we have all adapted, how stoically we have tolerated the tough bits, and how pluckily we have embraced the silver linings.
And Christmas could probably do with a bit of a refresh, a makeover. I know mine could. So this year, I am definitely looking at a healthier and more outdoorsy Christmas – mainly because “outdoors” is where we can see more friends. I’ll plan bracing sea dips, long blustery walks, drives to seafood shacks and whatever eateries remain open. I’m definitely looking at a less stressful Christmas, opting out of my usual travel chaos and staying in the comfort of my own flat. I’m looking at a greener Christmas, shopping locally and more economically – in this financial climate, every pound we spend is a vote for the sort of Britain in which we would like to live in five years’ time.
I’m looking at a Christmas enjoying the company of old and new friends, rather than sinking lazily into the comfort of my own family, which somehow turns all millennials into teenagers again. I’m also looking at a Christmas recovering from shoulder surgery, which would normally be a bit of a blow – but frankly, a pandemic lockdown is a cracking time to recover from surgery, with zero fear of missing out, no thrilling missed work opportunities, secure in the knowledge that almost everyone else is confined to their sofa as well. ’Tis the season for surgery, indeed.
So yes, I am looking forward to this strange Christmas. But I am also looking forward to Christmas’s second wave in March or April, or whenever restrictions loosen and we are all able to gather and celebrate as we please. Now that really will be a season to be merry.