Beach buddies

“Trust me, I’ve been there,” says Zoe Williams

There are two things we're all meant to hate about going on holiday in August – one is that it’s really expensive, the other is that it’s really crowded. All this makes perfect sense. Nobody likes crowds. Nobody likes waste. But only in England could this actually spoil our fun. Only in England could we possibly see sharing the motorway as the ruination of a fortnight’s holiday.

Actually, never mind the motorway, it’s the thought of sharing the beach that makes our blood run cold. You can see people shudder at the very sound of the word “Cornwall”. “Oh, but in the school holidays it’s carnage! It’s the mouth of hell, the sea itself is alive with demons (other people’s children), the sand is crawling with vermin (other people’s pets).”

People go to the most alarming lengths: they will take their children out of school early, they will holiday without their offspring, they will – heaven forfend – go to Northumberland, to avoid a seething mass of other people.

Can I just point out… not everybody has children, not all children are of school age, and people with children over 12 never go away because they can’t all agree? It’s all a massive overstatement. I cannot help but be reminded of the fact that shops never run out of turkeys on Christmas Eve (you can always pick up a frozen fellow, and who’s to know?), and petrol shortages never result in anybody not being able to go anywhere. Can I point out furthermore that there is nothing more boring than an empty beach? You may as well hang out in a car park.

Can I also point out that the entire rest of the year we’re all desperate to find kids the same age as ours? Yesterday, I actually chased a boy in a hat round a bandstand because he looked about 22 months old, and I thought he might make a good role model for my 21-month-old. It’s the Holy Grail of parenting. Once they start playing, you can sit still and read. Can I finally point out, we’re letting a bargain mindset infect our rational function? It’s not because August is more expensive that we resent it; it’s because it’s not on sale. It’s thinking like this that lands us with eating offal and wearing second-hand clothes that don’t fit.

In most countries, they greet holiday season like it’s a good thing. When French film directors make films about August, it is all sultry nights, beautiful views and two cousins having a sexual awakening, made possible by the fact that they don’t get to see one another the rest of the year. When Russians built their famous seaside resorts – with the sun monitors who shout you into a bunker of shade when you look a bit burnt – they did so thinking: “Brilliant. Room enough for us all to holiday simultaneously!” And they were right – what could be more festive?