Hunkering down for... summer?

The term "hunkering down". Normally associated with winter. A cold wind howling through the trees, funnelling through the valley. Watching out the window torrential rain ricochets off the bins, water streaming down the concrete road. "Hunkering down" and lighting a fire, cuddling into a blanket with a good book and a mug of swirling hot chocolate.

What is this hunkering down in summertime? The weather outside is mild, with occasional sunshine brightening the room. 

"Hunkering down" in summer is not to be associated with the weather, but with people.

Seeking out quiet corners of Snowdonia. Photo by Ben McKeown @thebigbluetree

I accepted this mentality a couple of Saturdays back. The surf report was good. There may even have been sunshine. But, getting to the beach could be compared to "running the gauntlet." North Wales' roads are probably best described as "chocca" at the moment. I don't actually feel safe on the roads. So many fast cars with tinted windows acting as though they are on a racetrack. So, we messaged our friend to say sorry, we couldn't face trying to get there. She replied in understanding. "It's fine once you're here....but you got to get here."

We last surfed on one of the last days before Wales opened up its borders again. Even on that day, the car park was busy. What would it be like now?

Adding to my "stay at home" mentality was recent police reports of increased numbers of dogs being stolen in Wales - particularly spaniels. Leaving the dog in my car while we surf? Perhaps not. 

I would normally quite happily describe myself as "a people person." What is happening to me? What has this new Covid-19 age done to me? 

Our last visit to the beach, just before Wales opened up its borders

Here is the answer:

1. A normal tourist season has a gradual build up of visitors, starting around easter time and peaking in August during the summer holidays. This is not a normal tourist season. We have gone from none, to BOOM! Everyone is here.

2. Everyone really is here... people are not travelling abroad. The famous term "Brits abroad" has now morphed into "The Great British Staycation." Our overpopulated island is holidaying in the countryside. 

3. Lockdown gave me a greater realisation of the ridiculous numbers of second homes, leading me to anger. Our house was surrounded by dark buildings during lockdown, which now have a new BMW or Discovery parked outside every week. Villages are losing their communities. The burdens of living in "honeypots" are pushing the locals out. 

4. Mess. Mess left by people. Litter. Burned grass from fire pits. Abandoned tents. Human poo and bits of toilet tissue. That same Saturday, we walked in our fairly quiet village, and found Budweiser bottles and Mickey Fins left in the river. My blood boils in frustration.

All this has lead to my loss of faith in humanity, in our nation. As a teenager, born in England and growing up in Scotland, I used to proudly call myself British. But with our current government in Westminster, and the behaviour of some of the British public, I hide my face in my hands and wish I belonged elsewhere. Then I tell myself off, remind myself of everything I love about the United Kingdom, how grateful I am to live in this quieter valley, and take the dog out for a peaceful walk in the woods. It's about knowing where to go, where to avoid. I'll hunker down in the summer and look forward to the onset of autumn.