My favourite book about holidays is The Fortnight in September by RC Sherriff. It is, of course, a Persephone book and pretty much nothing happens, but it is one of the most exquisitely observed pieces of writing I’ve ever had the pleasure to read. There’s about 100 pages on packing for the holiday and making sure the cat has enough food. It’s a masterclass in how to write. Anyway;
There is a feeling about the beginning of a cloudless day on holiday; an excited rustling as if invisible hands were rubbing together in anticipation over the roof tops: a droning murmur that seems to come from crowds of people collecting together buckets and spades, magazines and bath towels: all trying to assure themselves that there is no need to hurry – but trying frantically all the same to free themselves from the petty little things that hold them within the shade of the rooms.
[Picture: Tasseled Blog]