How to behave on holiday
Finally, that long‑awaited trip abroad. Milling along palm‑lined promenades, a dip in warm blue waters, a trip to the museum until, oh… you cause a minor international incident.
Escaping Covid captivity comes at a cost, it turns out – in this instance the prized marble trotters of a 200‑year‑ old Italian sculpture, whose ancient toes were sadly lost to an Austrian tourist posing for an ill‑fated, well, snap. Unfortunately for the perpetrator, track and trace meant his details were on file and thus swiftly handed to the police. When it comes to corona, there truly is no escape.
The point is that we have all come down with a case of having Forgotten How to Behave on Holiday; it’s only a few broken marble digits separating you from an Interpol red notice. So remember:
Eight ways to prevent disgracing yourself – and your country – in foreign climes Drinking was already a minefield – now you’re only one margarita away from being the next superspreader
The new breakfast rules We will never forget you, hotel breakfast buffet: those few mornings of the year where you could pile cold cuts, fried cuts, yogurt, fruit, pastries, an omelette, indiscernible smoked fish item, cake (yes, CAKE, you’re on holiday) and nobody would raise an eyebrow – repulsed staff excepted. If a hotel breakfast doesn’t involve 12 trips to the hotplate and a day of gastric distress, did it really happen?
Beware the smug out‑of‑office
“Toodlepip, just off exploring the ancient caves of Tulum, please bore anyone who isn’t me with your query xoxo”. Out‑of‑office emails have now segued from lightly irritating to a paper trail primed for dobbing someone in (have you really done your fortnight of self‑quarantine, Sandra? Instagram says otherwise…). They’re likely more effective than our current track‑and‑ trace system, if nothing else.
Put clothes on Challenging, frankly, when wearing trousers with a button counts for “dressing up” these days. All sun‑cavorting of recent months has probably been within the confines of your garden, making it entirely possible to forget that sunwear (a kaftan, shorts, whatever) and not just a pair of shrivelled pants from the back of the drawer is required. Nobody’s saying you have to go full Boden summer catalogue, but don’t get done for indecent exposure all the same.
No towel‑shimmying
Just not allowed, in spite of the fact that those who head to the pool at the crack of dawn to throw their belongings over every lounger in sight arguably pose a greater risk to the development of civilisation than the face‑mask deniers.
Drink responsibly Minefield. It was before, but now you’re only one margarita away from becoming the next superspreader. At this point, the minibar is your safest option – tiny volumes, consumed behind locked doors and prohibitively expensive enough to ensure you stay within your limits.
Pack the anti‑bac Forget the holiday gear toolkit of old – mozzie spray, sun cream, miscellaneous foil packets of pills for inevitable
“travel sicknesses”… the little plastic airport liquids bag can only take so much. Load her up with anti‑bac and be done with it. Covid has pushed Brits’ pariah rating to new limits – brandishing infinite bottles of the bright green stuff is all that can save us now.
Ditch the supermarket Browsing the aisles of the local supermarché used to equal aforementioned sites of ancient toe‑snappery for cultural education. Yet months when “doing the weekly shop” was the only time we ventured out of our own homes has depreciated its value. Yes, a trip to the supermarket is arguably more enjoyable than craning behind tourists observing the millionth iteration of “woman stares forlornly out of window in oils”, but in all regards, 18 varieties of local cheese are the last thing we need right now.
Don’t go native
The good news about lockdown is that it has proved self‑improvement of even the most minor form is simply Too Much Like Hard Work. Beware the faint praise of the language‑learning app you downloaded (and have subsequently ignored) some time in March: your stilted Italian is not molto bene, and the waiter you’re currently testing your “skills” on has surely suffered enough.