Days when we could stick a pin in a map and go... are gone

BACK in my boarding school days we would get to play (less enthusiastic sportsmen like my brothers would say forced to play) sport every afternoon except Wednesdays.

It was rugby in winter, hockey in the spring, and in the summer it was cricket or rowing. Wednesday afternoons were reserved for other activities designed, I think, to broaden our minds and our outlook on the world. For the first couple of years it was mandatory to sign up to the Combined Cadet Force, and the only choice we had was to do our time either with the army, the navy or the airforce. Lack of interest and herd mentality meant that most of us signed up with the army, and so got to spend our Wednesday afternoons with a particularly spiteful little drill Sergeant who took great pleasure in screaming in our faces, teaching us drill, and making us polish boots or mess tins a thousand times over. It was enough, like making me go to chapel every day, to put me off for life.

After CCF some of us were able to volunteer to do some work in the community. A friend and I put our hands up, and were sent off to help on projects in the nearby town. So for a while I spent Wednesday afternoons in the company of a grand old lady who needed our help with her shopping, her garden, and other bits and bobs. She was largely housebound, and as we weeded her path, or mended her windows she would sit in her chair and chatter about the state of the world and repeat ad nauseam “you two get out there and see the world, it’s a wonderful thing.” Following her advice has been one of the great pleasures of my life, and one that I have tried to instil in both children. The trouble is I don’t think they are going to get it so easy. The last year-and-a-half have reminded me how lucky I have been, to live in an era when we have been free to travel pretty much to wherever we want in the world, whenever we have wanted to. For the last 40 or so years travelling the world has never been so easy, so safe, or so cheap. If you wanted to drive across America, you could, and if you wanted to do it on a Harley Davidson someone would hire you one. If you wanted to trek through the jungle, ski down a mountain after being dropped on top by a helicopter, bungee jump off a bridge in New Zealand, or go and work in Hong Kong – no problem, it was all relatively simple. I have never done any of those things, but I have done many others. Of all the trips I have taken all over the world my favourite times have been “inter-railing’ as a student. Mrs Martin and I recently set ourselves a challenge to tick off all of Europe by train. In each case we have bought a ticket, boarded the train and gone to our chosen destination, staying for as long and leaving whenever we like. Accommodation

was found on foot when a student and now booked last minute on a mobile phone. Listening to the news over the last few days, the onoff holidays to Portugal situation, the red-listed countries, and the rising concern over new variants of the virus make me think those days of freedom are a very long way away.

As I write, I am waiting to see if Boris is going to confirm that I’m going to be able to go and enjoy a pint IN the pub on Monday rather than sitting outside shivering. I can handle having to book a table and to be gone after an hour (if I drink two pints these days I get a bit wobbly let alone three) and three people is a large enough group for me, never mind six. But I don’t half miss the days when I could stick a pin in a map and say: “Let’s go there tomorrow.”