We all want a holiday from coronavirus – even if that’s a fantasy | Rhiannon Lucy Cosslett | The Guardian

I’m yearning to go to Greece, but in the absence of effective UK government policy, there are no clear choicesOn social media, the holiday photos have started again. They are more muted now, not so brash and boastful. More tasteful views of the sea, less infinity pool luxury. Still, I feel a benevolent sort of jealousy. “Lucky sods,” I think, whether they are in Cornwall or the Costa del Sol. Like many others, I have been walking the same streets since March, but I’ve been dreaming of the Greek sea. I miss its particular clarity; shades of glittering aquamarine. Salt on my lips washed off with delicious cheap, thin white wine. Last year, I was there, reading Emily Wilson’s translation of the Odyssey as I watched fishermen shell prawns on the harbour front. It feels like a hallucination, now.Holidays are a luxury. As with gardens, the pandemic has demarcated the haves and the have-nots. Some people have lost their livelihoods, others are able to carry on holidaying as usual. There will be some anger at those who travelled abroad, but I also wonder how many of these censorious types have second homes, or can afford preposterously expensive UK holiday lets. Continue reading…

I’m yearning to go to Greece, but in the absence of effective UK government policy, there are no clear choices

On social media, the holiday photos have started again. They are more muted now, not so brash and boastful. More tasteful views of the sea, less infinity pool luxury. Still, I feel a benevolent sort of jealousy. “Lucky sods,” I think, whether they are in Cornwall or the Costa del Sol. Like many others, I have been walking the same streets since March, but I’ve been dreaming of the Greek sea. I miss its particular clarity; shades of glittering aquamarine. Salt on my lips washed off with delicious cheap, thin white wine. Last year, I was there, reading Emily Wilson’s translation of the Odyssey as I watched fishermen shell prawns on the harbour front. It feels like a hallucination, now.

Holidays are a luxury. As with gardens, the pandemic has demarcated the haves and the have-nots. Some people have lost their livelihoods, others are able to carry on holidaying as usual. There will be some anger at those who travelled abroad, but I also wonder how many of these censorious types have second homes, or can afford preposterously expensive UK holiday lets.

Continue reading…