The Expectations Game
Pleasure On Your Own Terms
We know that social media is the realm of idealized visions, mostly unattainable. But a stream of photos of Italian hotel lobbies, anglers holding large fish, Kyoto gardens curiously un-touristed can make one think you’re living the wrong way. The ever-present projections of dreamy living require discipline to resist and contributes to one of the biggest hurdles to actually having a good time: the expectations game.
Do you want the corner booth at a desirable restaurant with discreet people sitting on both sides of you? Naturally. Do you envision yourself hoisting a 19-pound salmon, silver in the light, from an Icelandic river? Why not, you deserve it. Could you settle onto a recliner gazing across Lake Como with a good book, perfect weather and no Americans within hearing distance? Assolutamente, life is good.
But that’s rarely the way these things go. Summer is peak season for travel and that vaguely desperate search for well-earned relaxation. What’s out there waiting for you? Comical traffic en route to Montauk. Venice overrun by all forms of be-shorted humanity. We’re currently quoting two hours, from an unsmiling host when you approach a restaurant on a Tuesday at 5pm.
None of this makes it into the frame, of course, unless you’re looking at a Martin Parr photograph. But that doesn’t stop us from aiming high. Part of the endless genius of Mr. Hulot’s Holiday is that our hero faces obstacles around every corner in his earnest search for leisure. Even back then there was the business bore rattling away on the phone. Hulot encounters surly service, defective boats and mischievous kids while the promise of seaside restoration remains forever around the corner.
So what should we do? Well, you can pursue the offseason agenda. That makes sense for someone of a contrary disposition—yes, the water is too cold to swim in May, or the seasonal restaurants aren’t open, but that beats the crowds. Families can’t always arrange things that way. And it’s summer anyway, come on man, we all want to get out of town.
