What is your favourite holiday? Why is it your favourite?
When I think about my favourite holiday, I can’t narrow it down to one trip. What stands out instead is how each holiday reflects a different stage of life.
Our next one will be Vietnam. We have been before, travelling from Hanoi to Ho Chi Minh City via Hoi An, then across to Cambodia. That was pre-Covid, which now feels like a previous era. This time we are landing in Hanoi and heading out to the Hà Giang Loop, which is meant to be mountainous and beautiful. I am looking forward to the scenery, the food, and whatever level of courage is required when winding roads and magnificent views arrive together.
The last holiday was much simpler. We put the dog in the car and drove to a beach house in northern NSW. It was the first time we’d taken a pet away with us, and the whole trip had an easy, relaxed feel to it.
Before that came the big one: a month away for a milestone birthday, including sixteen days in Antarctica with time in Chile and Argentina on either side. Antarctica was striking in a way that’s hard to forget. Chile was an unexpected highlight, and Argentina was interesting in its own way.
When we were younger, the story was simpler. Holidays meant camping. We packed the car with the confidence of people who believed in fresh air, folding chairs, and the moral value of being slightly uncomfortable. We cooked outside. We slept badly. We let go of the urgent. Most of the time it was an adventure.
In a few years, retirement and limited income may make holidays more predictable. There will be fewer big expeditions and more familiar routines. That will have its own gifts.
But for now, I am grateful for the differences.
Mountains in Vietnam. A beach house with a delighted dog. Antarctica large enough to silence me.
The Afterword 
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