Holidays

I was once called ‘rude and uncivilised’ by an Airbnb host and accused of leaving the flat ‘covered everywhere with small stones brought in from the beach’. I was taken aback, as I’d paid extra for cleaning. Did Lorenzo not agree that this included sweeping the floor? Perhaps that’s just Italians for you. His Nonna probably still does the hoovering for him. A five-star hotel will not leave you feeling like you’ve somehow imposed upon it by paying for a service I expect Lorenzo (not his real name) will be gesticulating wildly at news that Airbnb has officially excused guests who pay a cleaning fee from washing up and stripping beds.

Back the 1980s, travel agents controlled 90 per cent of all holiday bookings in the UK, face-to-face or via phone, with thousands of agencies and high street branches such as Lunn Poly and Thomas Cook. Then the internet struck. Like much else in modern life - supermarket checkouts, cab ordering, music streaming, stock trading - the boozy man in the drab suit or Silk Cut-mainlining woman in shoulder pads was jettisoned for greater value for money and control. As things stand, the mental cost of planning outweighs the pleasure of travelling But where travel is concerned, losing the middleman was a big mistake.

When I go on my hols this summer, I will, as ever, be taking a couple of novels with me. My golden rule for any break is only to take the kind of books that I’m actually likely to read, which not only rules out most of what I write and research, in the form of biographical and historical non-fiction, but also anything that’s going to sit in my suitcase reproachfully unopened, taking up space and leaving me feeling like an intellectual pygmy. Burying oneself in books should be an enjoyable rather than excruciating experience Last summer, I raced through an Amanda Craig, several Simon Ravens and a William Boyd. This year, for consistency, I’m hoping to pack the latest Boyd.

Matt McDonald, managing editor As we grow older, the idea is that we become wiser. I’ve decided to buck that trend by making progressively dumber decisions that put me further from my goals of attaining professional success, home ownership, emotional stability and nirvana. The most recent of these is increasing the distances I’ve been running; I will be attempting a half-marathon back home on the south coast of England the week before Christmas, with a view to running my first marathon in Berlin next fall. It’s unclear why we as a species decided to adopt the practice of doing marathons a couple of millennia ago — the first man to do it did die at the end, after all.

Matt McDonald, Managing Editor I am much better at buying gifts for others than I am at coming up with ideas for what I want: I’ve always valued experiences and memories more than material things... which isn’t very Christmassy or helpful. That said, I best unwind outside of work by going to the cinema and turning my phone off — replacing “bad screen” with “good screen,” if you will — and so getting me a MoviePass so I can watch Dune Part Two in IMAX next year at cut-price would be worthwhile. For others... the best thing I regularly get my Irish-ish cousins is items of clothing in one of our family tartans. Scarves for the ladies, ties for the gents.