Gadgets galore on holidays
I am going to sound like an 'oul fella now. I know that I am approaching old age more rapidly than I would like and that I can now see the reason, logic and share the grumpiness of some of those men such as Rory McGrath and Jack Dee from the BBC TV series 'Grumpy Old Men' from a few years ago.
Having returned to work this week from a family holiday, I had to actually bite my tongue while on holiday and stop myself from telling the young ones in the family about what holidays were like when I was their age.
We were strolling along a sun kissed town centre, one of those ones with all the souvenirs out front and we were half heartedly browsing, with the kids determined to spend their money, preferably my money on any old tat, when I came across a display of picture postcards.
Remember those. You would only have arrived on holiday and the first set of postcards you would find, would be quickly purchased, scribbled upon 'having a great time. Sun shining. Wish you were here' and posted all the while wondering would the postcard arrive home before you.
Anyway there I was with postcard in hand about to explain the whole ritual, before I thankfully wised up and moved on.
Every morning and evening the wi-fi hotspot at the bar on our campsite was mobbed with children, teenagers and grumpy old men such as myself on their phones, tablets, ipads and laptops, people were skyping, imessaging, online catching up on all the news from home.
One of the joys of going away on holiday was getting away from friends and family, leaving the baggage of work and home life behind for a few days. As a child I remember a holiday in Spain when coming across a day old Sun, Mirror or Express would be like finding gold. A chance to find out what's happening in the world.
Now with all the technology I was up to date with every bit of soccer gossip and news from home even if news was the last thing I wanted to hear on holidays. The next time we travel away I might try forgetting the bag with all the gadgets by the bottom of the stairs. Now that would really be a break.
Then when the kids go mad I can tell them that they can send their friends a postcard. Only problem is they won't know their postal address. Their email, mobile number, Instagram account, Facebook page no problem, but the number of their house. Get real.