A Fine Art by Virginia Hainsworth

The art of doing nothing when on holiday is not one which is easily perfected.  It takes hours of planning, preparation and practice.

The trick is to make it look, to others, as though you are being idle.  You know that you have fine-tuned your version of indolence so that you can make it look effortless, but others will not recognise that.  They think you are being lazy.  That is their problem.  They do not have the wit to know that they are being deceived.

If you are a novice relaxee, you may need a companion, but you do need to choose wisely.  You need someone who is carefully trained to spot when you might be in danger of spontaneous activity, and who will immediately prevent such exertions.  They will, of course, not wish to strain themselves too much in restraining you from sudden movement.  A mere shake of the head will suffice.

Let me give you an example of the art. 

On one particular afternoon, in the height of a French summer, my companion and I were sitting outside a bar in a village square.  The sun was seeping through our bones like osmosis, warming our muscles and softening them so that they would melt, like ice-cream, into the chairs.  Passers –by would no doubt think that we were indulging in idleness.   Their un-trained eyes would think that the only activity was the occasional reaching of an arm to pick up a coffee cup.  However, the expert eye of a fellow indolent would immediately spot that we were, in fact, undertaking observations. We were observing the bus stop on the other side of the square.  We were waiting for the bus.  New to the area, we needed to ensure that it was the correct bus stop for our imminent journey to the nearest town; that any approaching bus was the one we wanted; and that it was going in the correct direction.

If we were lazy, just standing at the stop and looking for an approaching bus would be enough.  However, making observations demands much more.  Refreshments, for example.  And questions to be answered.  And so, after the first coffee, we asked ourselves ….  Would we have time for another drink before the expected bus would emerge in the distance?  When a bus did appear, would we see – no, sorry, observe – from this angle, the direction board on the front?  How soon would we have to stand up and walk to the stop, when we did observe the bus? One must be especially careful not to stand up too soon, for fear of having to wait too long, in a standing position, at the bus stop.  And, for an indolent, the indignity of having to run was too much to contemplate. 

So busy were we in discussing the potential outcomes of our observations, that we did not see the bus coming and, indeed, missed it.

However, for professional relaxees such as us, this did not present a problem.  The next bus – or the next day- would suffice.

Two more coffees, please, waiter.