My retired parents take several holidays a year. They're on holiday right now - in Scotland, where they went by car.
A couple of months ago, my Paramour and I decided to try to arrange our own holiday. 'What would your choice be?' I asked. 'Greece, end of April or beginning of May,' he said. We consulted our diaries, couldn't find a mutually acceptable week till June, had an argument about whose fault that was (his, obviously), sulked for a bit, and eventually decided on France at the end of June, by car.
My brother-in-law was due to fly into the UK from his home in Canada today, to spend a week with the family before attending a work-related conference over here the following week. Of course we're sorry not to see him, but he's much better off stuck at home than stuck abroad or in transit as so many other unfortunate people are.
We are so, so lucky.