After my marriage ended, I blithely thought it would be easy to enjoy holidays as a single parent. I soon found out they were either outrageously expensive, or they seemed only suitable for “traditional” families, or they were so cheap that I came home more knackered than when I’d left.
My first attempt, camping with friends, was fine until I had to pack up the tent. Four hours of wrestling with it in the heat later, I hated camping. Next, the adventure holiday for single-parent families. The abseiling and caving were brilliant, but sleeping in a bunk bed ruined my back. We tried a budget all-inclusive in Tenerife, but the hordes of nuclear families were overwhelming, and pool-side conversations with other women fizzled out because I didn’t come with a handy husband for their own husbands to talk to. A trip to Mallorca with a friend and her children was brilliant, but the cost was eye-watering.
Then, last autumn, a friend asked if we’d house-sit her dogs in Devon while she went to a wedding. For one tranquil weekend, we walked on the beach, and curled up by the fire in the evening. That led to house-sitting for her friend in Dorset, which also went well. Encouraged, I paid an annual £99 fee to join a house-sitting website, where, in exchange for looking after people’s pets, you stay in their homes free of charge. Within a few days, I’d arranged a 10-day house-sit in Sussex, looking after a labrador named Buzz while his owners were abroad.
It was our first sit for strangers, but any nerves dissipated the moment we arrived at the gorgeous four-bedroom house and met the gentle Buzz, who lived for tummy rubs. Our daily dog walks gave us the opportunity to explore stunning nature spots, and, once we returned home, we could relax in the garden for important conversations about our favourite “Ghosts” characters in the BBC sitcom. There were no expensive tourist traps to traipse through – instead, we browsed bookshops, treated ourselves to manicures, and went on kayak trips. I felt lighter and happier than I had in years, and could feel my bond with my daughter Polly strengthen every day. I’m not afraid to say that I cried with happiness. Things felt possible again.
House-sitting isn’t for everyone. Some people want no responsibilities on holiday apart from choosing their next cocktail, aren’t into dogs or cats, or feel odd about sleeping in a stranger’s bed, emptying their dishwasher, and putting out their bins. But the gentle rhythm of ordinary life, with work stripped out and new places to explore, is perfect for me.
It keeps me from descending into complete idleness, which leaves me feeling twitchy and oddly hollow. And, financially, house-sitting is a life-saver for a single parent. A 10-day break in a similar-sized house in the same area we stayed would set me back about £2,500 on Airbnb.
As for staying in a stranger’s house, I found it nourishing. Although house-sitting is a transaction, it’s also an act of trust between strangers and animals, which has brought out my best self – my patient, loving and measured side, full of appreciation for the people and places we discover. I’ve already lined up another four days away, caring for a whippet in leafy Surrey, and, next year, I’d like to try house-sitting abroad. Thanks to a bit of creative thinking, we can see the world from the comfort of home – it just happens to be someone else’s.
