Last August, I was on holiday, stretched out on a beach in Cornwall with a book in my hand. The sun was beating down, the sea was sparkling, and I was gloriously relaxed.
Smiling, I looked over at my friend Mel, along with our husbands, who were laying next to me. Even though we were on holiday with our four children, we were surprisingly stress-free.
My kids Ella, 12, and Leo, 9, were within earshot, playing with Mel’s kids Calvin, 9, and Aveline, 5.
They were absorbed in their own world, happily filling buckets with sand, jumping waves, and collecting shells and stones.
There was nothing but the sound of laughter and pure joy coming from them.
And that’s when it hit me, none of them had asked for a screen. Not once. Three days into our holiday, and aside from some cartoons first thing in the morning, we had not heard a single plea.
We hadn’t put a screen ban in place, the reason for our success was far simpler: we weren’t holidaying alone.
I think I figured out a stress-free way of holidaying with kids. And it wasn’t just for my benefit – the kids were also happier for it.
At home, we have boundaries in place – our kids must have done four things before they get screens, but over the holidays, screens are still there in the background. Even with limits, the reality is that sometimes, they are still asked for. But on our Cornish holiday with friends, nothing. No negotiations. No moaning, no battles.
We first started holidaying with our best friends after the pandemic in 2020 who we have known for over 20 years, when we were all much younger.
We realised that the benefits of holidaying together would be the shared childcare, some wine and beer-fuelled laughter, and perhaps the rare luxury of a hot cuppa uninterrupted, while someone else refereed an argument.
On every holiday, with four children between us, there were built-in playmates from the moment of waking up. The kids had great fun playing on the beach, searching for sea glass, investigating rock pools, and making up their own songs on coastal walks.
They even invented elaborate games, involving seaweed and driftwood, got stuck into activity books and played countless games of Noughts and Crosses and UNO, when the weather was typically British or when waiting for dinner.
Of course, there were some squabbles; they needed a moment or two away from each other at times – usually just end of the day meltdowns due to tiredness. So small things, like who was going to sit in a seat or go first at a game, became big things and required some empathy and understanding from us all.
But screens rarely featured on their radars, and if the odd request did pop up, having four parents all on the same page made saying ‘no’ far easier. That meant not one person was the mean mum and dad, and no parent felt alone.
It was a united front, where the kids soon learned that there was little point in asking. They simply accepted it.
So much of modern parenting feels like it happens in isolation – behind closed doors fighting the same daily battles, but being on holiday with friends, the much talked about ‘village’ appears and you feel less alone,and it seems that it also benefits the kids.
It was the digital detox I could have only dreamed of. Even us parents seemed to spend less time doom scrolling.
And what amazed me the most, was how little the kids missed it. They weren’t longing for screens, they weren’t counting down, or ticking off a list before they were sat glued to Minecraft. They were too busy making their own messy, loud, imaginative fun.
They came home with tales to tell of chasing crabs, spotting seals, and seagulls stealing ice creams. I felt a quiet rush of pride and relief, hearing them animatedly retelling their adventures, knowing that time away from their screens had fed their curiosity in a way no tablet ever could.
That, to me, was the real revelation. I had gone on holiday expecting compromise – because group holidays do mean compromises; on food, days out, rooms. But what I hadn’t expected was that by being on holiday with another family, the children would forget about screens – almost entirely.
It felt a bit like rewinding time to holidays of my own childhood, where screens weren’t a feature. Fun was simple, chaotic, and free, where we would be flying a kite on a beach in Cornwall or enjoying a Knickerbocker glory that was so tall we needed to stand up to eat in a cafe in Scarborough.
I hadn’t gone on holiday looking for a solution for screen time, nor had our friends, yet each year, we seem to have inadvertently come back with one.
It isn’t a permanent fix, of course, because screens will always have a place in their lives, but what our holidays have proved is that when they have a bit of freedom, fresh air, and most importantly, other children around, screens end up on the sidelines.
It has made me rethink how we holiday. This year we are going back to Cornwall together in the summer holidays, visiting somewhere new.
Next time, we may not even bother packing the kid’s tablets, removing any fallback, no half-hearted, ‘I’m bored’ fix – the only option is to find fun elsewhere.
And, as our holidays, give kids a beach, a bucket, and a bunch of friends to stay up late with, and they don’t just survive without screens; they thrive.
And us parents can finally have the chance to sit back, sip a hot drink and read a book, knowing that, just for a while, the word ‘Mum’ won’t be followed by ‘Can I play on my tablet’. Instead, we hear: ‘Come and see what we have found!’
Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing Ross.Mccafferty@metro.co.uk.
Share your views in the comments below.