HOLIDAY HABITS.

Otago Daily Times, Issue 21214, 20 December 1930, Page 14

HOLIDAY HABITS.

CHANGING IDEAS AND MANNERS.

THE PURSUIT OF SPEED.

IS IT WORTH WHILE?

The close of the present week for many will mark the end of another "year’s routine, and the commencement of the annual festival of holiday-making and relaxation. According to local railway officials there 'has been no great rush as yet on the passenger services which are usually heavily taxed at this season of the year, but bookings indicate that Monday and Tuesday will be busy days, and that 'Wednesday's exodus will be of the usual Christmas Eve dimensions. It is generally reported, moreover, from most of the popular watering places and holiday resorts that the season promises to be a good one, if accommodation bookings are to .be taken as a reliable indication. Doubtless an assiduous ear might detect an occasional note of complaint, but hotel keepers and boarding house keepers do not usually suffer in silence. Like the most of us, if they are in trouble they do not hide it, and if they do not complain they are doing well. A_ discussion on the subject of the coming season between a Daily Times reporter and representatives of firms that cater widely for holiday traffic and accommodation confirmed the reports of the high hopes generally entertained and the foundation for them. But that was not the only point upon which there was unanimity. The past few years have impressed upon those engaged in the transport and housing of holiday crowds the fact that the national habit of holiday-making has undergone a marked change. It is becoming more restless. What is well called “ the bed and breakfast brigade” pervades the coast and the country to an extent almost unknown a decade ago. From evidence adduced yesterday it appears that those who can travel light and are unencumbered by the impediments—however dear —of a family, move quickly from places to place. They stay a night of two and are gone, and—though more profitable—are as transitory in their passing as the poet’s “ snowflakes on the desert’s dusty face.” Time was when the holiday-maker used to anchor himself at an hotel or lodging house at the beach or other tourist resort of hia choice for the full terra of his vacation. After the first or second day he had found his groove and settled down to do nothing, much to his own boredom and that of the younger members of the party, who nevertheless were not at a loss to find their own means of amusement and recreation. Excursions were few and rare. Now the prevailing idea of a holiday is one of perpetual excursion, a sampling of as many delights in as many places as is possible in a few days or a few weeks. ' Those who have given hostages to fortune without fortune giving a corresponding reward to their courage, are still tethered on holiday as at home, and the philosophical cheerfully make the best of it. But the fashion, and the passion, of the day is motion, and it is indulged to the full. The motor car of course, has contributed to the change more than any other factor. That revolutionary machine has turned the world upside down and shaken us violently, but on the whole very agreeably, out of old habits and conventions. Everybody craves to be on the move and go far, and most people manage it somehow, as witness the long lines of cars that, may be seen on any of the popular routes in the province at such a time as- this—great powerful cars that eat up the miles and raise the dust as they career from place to place, always in a hurry and always full, and always with a different complement of passengers. Every seaside and lake resort seems ambitious to exchange its visiting population many times over with its neighoburs and with places divided from each other by the width of whole provinces. This, of course, means a rapid circulation of money from hand to band, and so long as their rooms are full hotel-keepers are not likely to complain of rapid changes of personnel, though possibly their staffs might. For the younger generation the hurry and the change have a fascination. Those who are wiser, being older, are usually glad to get out of it. They are not keen to take paft in it because they are not persuaded of its worth. And in any impartial estimate the worth would be hard to prove and to assess. An old Eastern proverb remarks that “ there is no happiness in haste,” and, although it does not necessarily apply to the west, there can be no doubt that we have lately enormously accelerated our way of living. _ Modern pleasure, like modern life, is suggestive of the last lap, the gallop up the straight. Some people with pronounced eschatological views seriously consider the fact symbolical, and believe that the human race is entering on its last lap, that a catastrophic end of all things is at hand. But mostly we glory in the hurry and views of life, 'and things become increasingly panoramic. There is much significance in the now familiar dialogue between the motor cyclist and his pillion rider: “ That is a lovely view.” Yes, it was.” Motorist and motor cyclist are in frenzied haste to reach somewhere, though the reason for their urgency is seldom apparent when they get there. Eating is performed with expedition and with an inevitable aftermath of indigestion, and the plague of hurry smites the holiday-maker to such an extent that for a brief season on his return to business work goes on at snch a rush that

managers wonder what has taken their staffs.

Adam Lindsay Gordon in his day found that life was mostly “ froth and bubble,” a statement which may be a trifle overstrong, but undoubtedly there is a great deal of froth and bubble about at this time of the year. So much so that it suggested that people would be far happier if they sought to appropriate something of Nature’s calm and repose. Nature’s works are beautiful, her ways are orderly, and she is never in a hurry. She occasionally advances, performing a pirouette in the matter of daily weather, but her seasons come round without loitering, without hurrying. It was after that unhurried fashion our forefathers lived, since they had not the facilities for hastening unduly. From the days of the Pharaohs to the time of Queen Victoria there was no appreciable increase in speed. Man could travel no more quickly at the latter stage than at the former since throughout the intervening ages the horse embodied the maximum rate of ambulatory progress. But all that is changed. The speed multiplicand has been enormously increased, and we must all hurry. Is it worth while?