Holiday Blues

I’m trying to enjoy my holiday

It cost a small fortune and I can’t fault the hotel, the location or the staff, but I miss home. 

Also for the first time in recorded history the weather is better at home in England: 

Cloud, rain and clammy humidity here and clear, warm September sun there. 

More than the weather though, I miss my dogs- especially Olive, the youngest of my three border terriers. 

I miss her exuberant greetings every time I walk in the door. I miss her lazy sighs as she stretches out at my side. 

I miss her thrusting a dog toy into my hand when she wants to play and I don’t. 

I’ve already read my Jeremy Clarkson book (Diddlysquat ‘Till the Cows Come Home) which was very funny- and wished I’d bought another. Coming from solid farming stock his protestations of the silly war on British farmers rang true. Whatever you believe about the changing climate, we still need to feed the nation. 

In the absence of my own young children to occupy me- they’re all grown up now- I get bored easily. 

The little bay in which we are situated in Porto Petra, Mallorca has mesmerised me for the last three days. High winds and dark clouds have turned it into a boiling cauldron; white spray, spilling up and over its rocky rim. 

Moored boats lurched like one of those bucking bronco contraptions you sometimes see at a country fayre. 

There were two schools of thought in the serene infinity pool above the bay: the serious swimmer and the lounger made a sharp contrast in approach. 

Action man swam endless lengths wearing tiny flippers on his hands and feet, pausing every so often to check that everyone was watching and was sufficiently impressed. 

Inaction man, laid like a starfish-face down on top of a giant inflatable Manta Ray. (Even the inflatables are posh. I’ve also seen an inflatable Triceratops).Evidently, he cared not a jot what anyone thought. 

I must say that I admired the cut of his jib! 

The staff are very attentive and numerous; perhaps too much so. 

Every time I begin to relax someone bobs up and into my vision asking if they can feed me or top up my drink. 

I don’t feel special but rather too spoilt. And then I feel guilt and a little ashamed. 

I haven’t felt at all hungry since we arrived and have gone to bed at night with indigestion. 

I’d gladly share it with those less fortunate but there’s no one like that here. 

There are a lot of young families here which is nice to see. The little ones are very well behaved and have already developed a palate for olives by the age of three. 

Theirs will be a life of privilege; of flights to foreign lands and half-empty paradises, whilst the rest stay at home wearing masks, waiting for their schools to fall down (something to do with a dodgy lot of concrete) and wondering how they will be able to pay the latest ULEZ charges. 

The young olive munchers will not worry about global boiling or the cost of student accommodation and tuition fees. They are exempt. 

I hesitate here to say that this exemption is by some accident of birth. In some cases it is but in many cases it is through the hard work and enterprise of their parents. Even their parents parents. 

It is through valuing the family first- not the government- that nations are made.

It is through passing on our inheritance and our ethical values and our God to our children and to their children that the kingdom of heaven is built here on earth. 

Why? Because anyone lucky enough to have children knows that they bring out the best in us . That we begin to do away with the self and the shrivelling self-love with which we approached life and instead bestow a wholesome and generous love on our beloved children. 

Instead of working for ourselves, fulfilling our own wants and desires, we want the best for them. 

We read to them; we bathe them at night and tuck them into bed and we rise early again the next day to meet their needs. 

In the west at least, we still have choices to make.

We chose -some time ago – to put our trust in God and we have reaped the benefits. That’s why we are being flooded with people from nations who worshipped other gods: false gods; man-made gods, instead of the one true God who made man; who made all things.

Now our secular society has turned away from God and we have created a vacuum of meaning, of moral deviance and of mental stability. 

Even our buildings crumble because they were not built on firm foundations. 

But there is good news in all of this. 

Even though our governments continue to believe their own hubris: that they will “build back better!” as they chant in unison to the mantra of the World Economic Forum- it’s not going too well is it?- there is an alternative solution:

“if my people who are called by my name humble themselves, and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and heal their land.”

So says the Lord our God. 

I think I’ll try the Strawberry Daiquiri!