Infinity Pools, Breakfast Buffets And Other Family Holiday Delusions

There is definitely something thick in the air this time of year.

You could be catching a whiff of the hissy air blowing from the cabin vents of your departing flight. Maybe it is the cool, crisp bouquet of an East Asian temperate garden. Or perhaps – if you are more of a tropical traveller – it is the earthy beach pong and the buttery sunscreen on your shoulders.

Yes, it is the most wanderlust-y time of the year. Families are raring to fly, sail or drive away to some place where they will spend quality time and mucho money (preferably in a currency mucho weaker than the mighty Singapore dollar).

We love to travel because we want our children to see the world and explore new places. We want them to experience exciting and diverse cultures so different from our own. We want them to develop an expansive worldview that can be fuelled only by such itinerant exposure.

Which is why staycations are such a big hit with us, right?

Singapore families love their staycations. The travel restrictions of the Covid-19 years compressed 24 months of stunted wanderlust into a vengeful desire for anything that looks remotely like a vacation. Enter Singapore’s unoccupied hotel rooms, empty infinity pools and all-you-can-eat breakfast buffets.

Before anyone could ask, “same meh?”, the art of the staycation cemented its place in the national zeitgeist – right up there with queueing, eating and complaining (usually in that order).

But deep down in our restless hearts, we know that staycations are a beautiful lie that we happily choose to believe. And it is not the only falsehood we willingly subscribe to either. Here are five other family vacation half-truths we buy into, again and again.

The window seat on the plane is a teachable moment in geography

Your kids love the window seat in a plane... for all of eight minutes until the in-flight entertainment system boots up. But we, too, love it when our children look out the window with such a childlike sense of wonder.

We imagine that they are quietly aspiring to be Singapore’s first astronaut or maybe they are contemplating the science behind the miracle of aviation. Or they could be, at the very least, trying to sort the cirrus clouds from the cumulonimbus.

But those fluffy NatGeo dreams evaporate quickly, even before the Disney marathon begins. This is because, at some point, they will quiz us in earnest about the geography below as our flight takes off: “Daddy, is that still Singapore? Or is it Malaysia?”

Of course, most of us geospatial nincompoops haven’t a clue. But if years of child-rearing has taught us anything, it is the wily art of equivocation. So, when my geography knowledge is challenged thus, I have learnt to reply confidently: “It’s international waters.”

The infinity pool is a calming oasis

Browse the brochure of any hotel’s infinity pool and you will invariably see this photograph: A slender woman in a bikini with her back to us, staring out to the great beyond, sometimes featuring the calming cameo of a fancy alcoholic beverage.

It is a picture of utter and complete relaxation.

It is also a lie. For one thing, you cannot see her face, so there is no way to ascertain that she is indeed having a good time. What you also cannot see are the 40 or so rumbustious kids splashing about in the pool around her.

There is also a good chance that this woman is looking away in an attempt to disguise the fact that she is the parent to one of these un-pictured children, as her young child prepares to perform a precarious cannonball from the pool bar.

The only thing endless about hotel infinity pools during a family vacation? The embarrassment.

The breakfast buffet is fit for kings

The beloved breakfast buffet is many things (I mean that literally). It is a gluttonous promise of variety, a hallmark of a classy hotel, and the reason you should always pack drawstring pants for your vacation.

It is, also, better in theory.

You wake up each morning with hopeful visions of cured pancetta, smoked salmon and a smorgasbord of artisanal breads. But what greets you at the rowdy restaurant are trays of carcinogenic bacon, lukewarm fried rice and an elbow-jostling contest right out of the Hunger Games.

Meanwhile, your child returns triumphantly with a breakfast selection comprising what he believes are the four major food groups: waffles, pancakes, croissants and chocolate soft-serve. It is his fantasy breakfast, and one that he will gladly eat every single vacay day.

You, on the other hand, are squirming by day two because you really cannot stomach yet another egg-station omelette. But you refuse to yield because you have paid good money for it and better heartburn than to burn a hole in the pocket of your drawstring pants.

Road trips are so much fun

Singapore drivers are the worst. On the roads, we are entitled, angry and morally opposed to indicating our intention to turn or switch lanes. We blame our belligerence on the fact that our highways are too crowded and all the other drivers are ill-bred.

But once we hit foreign roads, our terrible road manners stand a chance of rehabilitation. Maybe we drive more mindfully because we are too cheap to buy extra insurance on the rental car. Or it could be the endorphins that flood our brains as soon as we imagine a rousing playlist of highway anthems.

So, we excitedly curate a long list of feel-good tunes for cruising these overseas highways, everything from Journey’s Don’t Stop Believin’ to The Proclaimers’ I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles) to Happy by Pharrell Williams. Basically, a playlist that harks back to our wild and (kid-)free days.

We might even go so far as to imagine a musical paradise where our kids will gleefully sing along to all our favourite songs.

Back to earth. The reality is that your four-hour drive will be sonically accompanied by (in this order) Golden from KPop Demon Hunters, For Good from the Wicked musical, Golden from KPop Demon Hunters, For Good from the Wicked musical. Repeat ad nauseam.

It is enough to make you drive like a Singaporean again and wish you had taken up the additional insurance coverage.

Snow is fun for all ages

Snow, in theory, is magical. Snow, in practice, is cardio.

First, there is the Byzantine process of layering: thermal wear, shirt, fleece, jacket, hat, gloves, scarf, waterproof pants, waterproof boots – and that is just for one child. By the time everyone is bundled up, you are completely knackered and need a nap in the cosily heated cabin.

Without fail, this is also the time one of your kids will declare an urgent need to urinate.

When you do eventually step outside, the children sprint off like hyperactive penguins to make snow angels and misshapen Olaf snowmen. You, however, lumber into the snow behind them like an unwieldy tin man navigating the treacherous snowscape. Your creaky knees threaten to buckle under the weight of too many buffet breakfasts and not enough laps in the infinity pool.

This is also the time when all of your kids will declare a snowball fight where you are designated the horrible clumsy monster that needs to be pelted and felled.

Again, as a master equivocator, I would not recommend fighting back. In fact, this would be a good time to fall down gently and play dead. You might be able to get that nap in after all.

Raymond Goh is a father of a nine-year-old and editorial director at The Singapore Women’s Weekly.

This article was originally published on The Straits Times.