“I wonder what it would be like to live in a world where it was always June.”
― L.M. Montgomery, Anne of the Island
It’s been a looooooooong week and my summer holiday vibe is a very distant memory. After a barrage of work drama I was feeling pretty damn shattered as the weekend approached. As my alarm rang out on Friday morning my body felt like it was encased in slowly setting concrete.
I rolled over in bed and scrolled through some ridiculously exotic Instagram shots (turquoise waters, oh yes) and I could’ve wept with sheer longing and wanderlust. I craved some holiday chill, a tiny sliver of sun-drenched beach nestled in amongst a grey guddle of TASKS.
So I got on it. I made my Saturday a summer holiday.
Early Morning Wander
I love the feeling of heading to an airport at the crack of dawn. That sensation of being up and ready for some heavy duty adventuring while the rest of the world is in their kip is magical.
Ok, it’s your weekend, I’m not suggesting you set the alarm for 5am. I’m not a complete fascist. But instead of doing the extended long lie (until 2pm or so), cut it a wee bit short and head out to explore your new holiday resort (ok, regular town or village).
I walked to Greggs for a large cappuccino and it was marvellous walking home drinking it at a weekend pace. Yes, that’s right, I wasn’t power walking to my next ‘thing’. I dilly-dallied, had a chat with some seagulls and checked out some sparkly spider webs on the suspension bridge.
(It’s also worth checking the Greggs app which has a ridiculous number of freebies on offer. Free welcome coffee anyone?)
You know the score with holidays. Yes, they’re blissful and smell like coconuts but they’re the ULTIMATE in high maintenance beauty.
You get the spray tan, the mani/pedi (gel please), HD brows and you are waxed within an inch of your life. Add to that a rigorous body scrubbing and moisturising regime and perhaps even a spot of misguided, last-minute panic juicing. Yet, if you’re anything like me, during the rest of the year you’re dashing around in the dark, manically making questionable clothing decisions based on how recently you’ve shaved your pins. WHY?
Sod it, I thought, I’m getting my holiday shimmer back. I jumped on to Treatwell and booked myself a pedicure at Nail Zone on Queen Street. The Treatwell website and app are easy to use and have amazing deals.
Holiday toes are BACK and, as a result, I feel peachy!
This is the key to a year-round eternal state of summer wellbeing. Head on over to Pay As U Gym and buy a day pass. I paid 7 quid 35 pence for a day pass at the Glasgow Hilton. But that was around a million percent cheaper than my actual summer jaunt.
I headed over to the Hilton about 6ish on Saturday evening (pictures from my walk there below) when I thought it might be a little quieter (it was). I was handed some fluffy towels and then I was plunged into a world of summery relaxation. Pool, steam room, jacuzzi and my favourite: THE SAUNA. There’s nothing more relaxing than the heat of the sauna seeping its way into your tight, work-filled muscles. And you can just float. Float.
Trust me, you will leave feeling significantly better than you did at 7.30am on Friday morning.
Admit it. You’ve had a cocktail for breakfast on holiday at least once. And you’ve certainly indulged in the 6am airport pint o’booze. The illicit cocktail is all part of a holiday’s charm. I headed up to the bar at The Hilton, quaffed a cocktail and felt like I was a jet-setting goddess. I wasn’t. But I felt like I was.
A montage of holiday booze is included here for your inspiration:
Late Night Dinner
During the week I eat my dinner pitifully early. I horse it down generally while I’m watching something on TV and maybe hanging out a washing at the same time.
But, on holiday people dress up for the evening. They head out for what the Italians call ‘la passeggiata’ (a sociable, pre-dinner stroll) and then they spend hours over infinite courses of dinner, sharing witty tales about their riviera high-jinx. Well, there or thereabouts.
But there is no denying that there is something totally luxurious about a late night dinner. It has midnight snack excitement written all over it.
I headed to Saramago at the CCA at about 8.45pm for some vegetarian delights. The courtyard setting sprinkled with colourful fairy lights was basically a hilltop village in Andalusia and I will not hear any different.