There you are, bleary-eyed at your desk when excited squeals bounce around the office—the holiday-maker who always sends Gourmet-Traveller worthy postcards has returned from yet another getaway, tan aglow. It’s enough to make someone reach for the recycle bin and revisit those cornflakes.
Sick of reading about glorious getaways and fantasy tours? Jealous of your workmate’s tan? According to the ‘No leave No Life’ website, Australia has 70 million days of accrued annual leave and nearly 60% of full-time workers do not use their full 4 weeks annual leave each year. There are many reasons why people don’t go away on holidays: no money, no time, too scared (fear of flying etc). So here are some reasons why it’s good to stay home:
Ways of dying or wish you were: No mention of shark attacks here. You’re more likely to be one of the people who die in a motorscooter accident or from coral poisoning. There’s also the curry from exotic pots on streets that discovers orifices you didn’t know you had; and that thing called DVT. Although, that sensation may have just been due to a slow 60 Minutes week.
Build up of mail and email: you think one day of spam is bad? What if you go away during the lead up to an election and Christmas: Junk mail city. And email spam galore: you’ll end up deleting the good stuff like invites to a free wine tasting of Grange Hermitage at your local cellar.
Jet lag: Falling asleep on a keyboard is not a good look for someone supposedly refreshed and remotivated to please their employers’ whims. And the drool might short circuit your audit into the Trade Practices Act.
Missing TV and events: unless you’re addicted to ‘Lost’, where you can quite happily miss four episodes and some guy is still in a cave, then you’ll miss why whohewhatsit is now sleeping with whatshername. While out of mobile range on a deserted island unaware of any global economic crisis, your savings account disappears as fast as poolside overpriced pineapple daiquiris.
Withdrawal from Aussie-isms: ever tried getting a half decent cup of tea for a half decent price overseas? Hah. And heard of a queue? Pushing in front must come from watching all that football. Soccer. Whatever.
Annoyance of other cultures: spitting on pavements, not understanding you even when you both speak English (yes Texas I’m talking about y’all and your ‘water’ ‘warterh’— what the hell is ‘wrtgghh’?). Dogs crapping on your backpack at the station, church bells at 4am. Having to wait until 9pm to have dinner. And even then you can hear the crack of your grissini and the feel the sneering glances from the staff for interrupting their dinner before the ‘real’ diners come in.
Brain-twisting mathematics: Memories of primary school long division causing tears come flooding back when converting Honk Kong dollars to Euros then ending up in Switzerland only to realise they’re not part of the EU. Goddamn wallet had four currencies. And if it’s 400 HK then it’s 40 dollars…no wait…4 dollars.. wait…how can milk be 100 dollars…is that because of the melamine?
Food: yeah yeah, fair enough, the food is better in some parts of the world. Bread in France, but not in the US (unless you need a sugar hit). Cereal is fine, except in Germany with the chocolate chips and frosted sultanas in the muesli. And what the hell is with the wine in Italy? I’ve had water with more flavour.
Water: There are some places that you can drink H20 no worries, like good old Aussie (although Adelaide water always did have that odd taste). But what happens when turning the faucet unleashes an ooze and several centipedes? Think I’ll become a beer drinker thanks.
The credit card bill: Funny how the exchange rate seems to be worse on the bank statement than it did in your head at the time you got caught up in the moment and bought that Tuscan ceramic clock that you had to haul around for another 2 weeks. And it broke anyway when the fragile sticker fell off and it was tossed as if it were full of bags of herbs of Provence, which are confiscated by Customs anyway because they might contain ‘herbs’.
Anticlimax: Just like the more we spend on face creams, the more we expect to look like Elle McPherson; the more we spend on holidays the more we expect to be enlightened/rested/entertained. Bulls**t. Apart from the joys of a functioning in-flight entertainment system—be sure of long lines, crowded throngs and annoying hawkers with metal Eiffel towers who call you ‘miss’ .
The mess: Back at home, the suitcase erupts: dirty laundry, ripped clothes, countless receipts from anything (even tea at McDonalds and chewing gum at a corner store), half-eaten melted nougat that sticks to your suitcase and the exploded shampoo bottle. Oh yeah and weeks without a razor = legs of a yeti. Blerk.
So next time you look at the double figures of your leave accrued and get the guilts, don’t worry. Your colleague’s tan was fake anyway: cyclone season comes rain, hail and no shine.
