Of all the travelling tales I have heard my cousin tell, the one they recount with the least enthusiasm, relates to the all-inclusive holiday they once ‘made the mistake’ of booking. This, they report, was one of those trips where you stay in a big hotel full of people from your own country, in which all food and drinks are provided at no extra cost. They say they decided to book such as a holiday, as they saw it as a chance to relax on a minimal budget. Hoping to unwind in the sun, leaving the stresses and strains of work and life behind them in the UK, if only for a week. This did not prove to be the case. Firstly, it seemed as most of the UK had come with them and were staying in the same hotel. Making it very busy. Secondly, the resort proved very difficult to escape from. Prisons, they reported, have an easier path from cell to exit gate, than found at this establishment.
My cousin, who likes to see some of the country in which they are holidaying, said that this proved quite a challenge, as the hotel made leaving their premises unusually difficult. The only way out seemed to be to book on to one of their approved trips, provided at an extra and not unsubstantial cost. This meant the hotel remained busy and full of holidaymakers at all times, leading to a rather stressful atmosphere. The mass of hotel guests participating in a daily and unrelenting competition for the beds by the pool, the free of charge activities, and the all-inclusive drinks being served to a constant line of guests. Some of whom felt in grave danger of sobering up at some point over their two-week break. Most stressful, they tell me, was food time, with each and every meal dished out from endless buffets to long winding queues of holidaymakers. If you were ill prepared enough to find yourself at the end of these queues, you were generally only left with the dregs of whatever had been cooked and kept warm over the strictly adhered to food service times. These times proving to be pretty inflexible, with a firm two hours provided for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
They tell me that the whole hotel timed their arrival so that they could be there for the opening of the doors. Meaning that anyone reaching the dining hall soon after start of service, would already find themselves at the end of a very long queue. This made for a reasonably stressful stay, but also seemed to have a lasting effect once the holiday was over. For a number of weeks after returning home, my cousin says that they would begin to feel both hungry and a little panicked, around half an hour before the hotel service time.
I could relate to this in many ways. Not because of my holiday experiences, but more as I am at the mercy of my eating patterns. Ones that have been ingrained in me from childhood. I eat at the same times each day and prefer not to be creative over the position of the clock hands when I take my meals. I breakfast soon after waking, I lunch at midday and take dinner from six. This may seem a rather rigid timetable, but I would argue that in many regards it is not an unusual one. It seems as if we are all brought up on our three staple meals. With every home, school, or workplace, as well as most individuals, planning their activities and days around them.
To many, this can be a challenge in control, as our bodies often prove to be asking for food earlier than our scheduling allows. The grumbling mid-morning, or mid-afternoon, stomach often appeased with snacking until we can take our meal, at the designated time. I can only think that such structured consumption is a relatively recent development. I am sure that cave people did not awaken to a regular alarm, switching on fires in the depth of winter to remind each other that the morning’s meal was the most important of the day. Hunger and accessibility ultimately determining eating time. Even relatively recently, not all the standard three were welcome. Breakfast was considered a gluttonous and greedy affair, viewed as the reserve of the poor and the young only, whilst lunch was king. Citizens enjoying an afternoon meal big enough to keep the hunger pangs at bay, such that dinner need not be taken.
Modern employment has largely put an end to these long lazy lunches. With very few industries - outside of France - able to support their workers in a three-hour dining break, followed by an afternoon of listlessness and desk naps. Lunch for many, tends to be small and rushed. To allow us to complete our mandatory seven and a half work hours and get home with enough time for dinner. Our days are arranged around food, in the same way that food has become arranged around our days. They have become harmonised, with most of the world adopting the same arrangement.
There are certain mavericks out there who would like to change these patterns, suggesting we should eat a number of small meals spread throughout the 24 hours. Such a radical proposal is yet to take hold and I struggle to see the population at large adopting it. I for one, would not want to sit down with friends at midday for small plate number four, or with family in the evening for the eighth tiny snack. Food is not just for subsistence, it is social and these food patterns have built to allow us to work together, eat together and rest together. There seems little reason to change things, especially now that we’ve finally agreed on them.
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