I have a keen dislike for Bank Holiday weekends. For starters, I have to say that I think the Australian term for having an official nation-wide ‘day off’ from work is far more accurate than the British term. We Aussies refer to these blessed days as ‘Public Holidays’, because that’s exactly what they are - a holiday for the public. The Brits, however, refer to such days as ‘Bank Holidays’, a term which harks back to week days when the banks stayed closed. Let’s face it, it’s not just a ‘Bank Holiday’ anymore is it? And why, when I refer to these holidays as ‘Public Holidays’, must I be subjected to strange looks? It’s pretty obvious what I’m referring to. Plenty of Australians would understand what a ‘Bank Holiday’ is, so why must the cultural acceptance only go one way?

My second reason for disliking Bank Holiday weekends is that they seem to bring out the worst in everyone. Take, for example, our local pub quiz. A typical Sunday night in North Wales is spent at our favourite dive of a pub where we participate in the world’s easiest (and best) pub quiz. The girls in our team are expected to charm Quiz Master Dave into giving away answers, and it’s not at all surprising if a piece of pub furniture gets broken by some drunken lout falling on top of it. Unfortunately, Bank Holiday weekends ruin this tradition for us - every man and his dog turns up at the pub to ‘have a go’ at the quiz whilst getting rip-roaring drunk, and quiz team names such as ‘We’re Shit and We Know We Are’ are some of the more sanitary of the selection. There’s basically no point in going to the quiz on a Sunday night that falls before a Bank Holiday, and thus we lose the opportunity to win two bottles of cheap wine.

Another example of Bank Holidays turning people into evil shadows of their normal selves can be seen in the typical family weekend. Usually, spending two days together on a normal weekend is just enough time to make you wish that Monday would come around just that little bit quicker, sending you back to work and away from the interrogations about what you’re doing with your life and how much your job is paying you. Unfortunately, Bank Holiday weekends are that extra bit longer, so that by the time you get to Monday night you’re near suicidal and doubting everything you’ve ever hoped and dreamed about. Guns don’t kill people, Bank Holidays do.

And so, in closing, I would like to suggest that all Bank Holidays from now on be scheduled in the middle of the working week, be renamed ‘Public Holidays’, and be spent far far away from anyone who may cause your blood pressure to rise. If this cannot be accomplished, I think the least the government could do would be to designate a few dozen bottles of top quality red wine to each household within the UK for consumption every Bank Holiday weekend. That’d be sure to win Labour the next election!