What a marvellous thing it is to do nothing – and then rest afterwards.

I came across these words a great many years ago – I think I was still in my teens – in one of our national dailies.

It used to print a thought for the day in its inner pages and I still remember this particular thought.

It was, according to the paper, a translation of a Spanish proverb.

Now, I’ve never come across the Spanish version – but perhaps some linguistically gifted reader knows the original.

Here’s hoping!

These words have just come back to me because I have spent the last four weeks in Cyprus, doing just that, in the sun and the warm.

And then to be deluged the very minute I stepped off the plane in Liverpool.

It was a shock to the system – one I’m still getting over!

Back in Workington, I cast my mind back to the sort of holidays I used to spend down the years.

How they have changed and how very different they were to the sort of holidays enjoyed by the youngsters – and their parents – of today.

I can remember a time when a couple of days spent in a local fun fair and day or two in Allonby or Silloth would have been greatly appreciated by both young and old.

Coming from Merseyside, in my case that would be a couple of days out in New Brighton – on the bus.

There was none of this just jumping into the car to go wherever and whenever you pleased.

Cast your mind back to your early days.

Just how many people in your street actually owned cars?

In my street there were two – the local bank manager and a neighbour opposite who had just finished university and had bought himself a second-hand car.

It was a real old banger which was routinely dismantled in his continuing efforts to ensure its regular smooth running.

A few neighbours did own motorbikes, of varying vintages, some with sidecars attached, and a few autocycles.

Remember them?

I enjoyed my holiday, as ever. But a few things did annoy me – selfies and smartphones!

Go into any eating place and you would most likely be surrounded by diners who were gazing transfixedly at their mobiles or other social media contraptions.

It was bizarre.

I can remember when most of us didn’t have a phone in the house.

How many of you, when you had to make – or receive – an urgent phone call had to use a public phone box?

Can you remember?

And how many times were you standing, pennies in hand, outside a phone box in the wind and rain, waiting – impatiently waiting – seemingly forever?

And nowadays, everyone seems to have a mobile phone – even young children.

I gather that one news source has reported that mobile phones have been seen in the hands of three-year-olds.

At this rate we’ll all end up with mobile telephonic implants – permanently connected to some information source.

Sounds positively Orwellian!

I neglected to take a camera with me to Cyprus but I’m sure that I appear in the background of other people’s selfies.

One thing occurs to me.

What do people do with all these selfies?

Music next! I have mentioned some of the musical groups that have appeared in our area.

I wonder if you can help me dig out information about a Workington-based group that was operating in the 1920s or 1930s.

It had at least a dozen members – all playing ukuleles.

I know they existed because I recall seeing a rather faded photo of them in action.

They, both men and women, were on stage somewhere – all very formally attired and clutching their ukuleles.

And that’s all I know about them.

I remembered their existence when I came across a piece in this paper in 2016 about the Cockermouth Ukulele Club.

Walking down Murray Road I did notice that one shop had a few ukuleles for sale – and I was tempted.

I could almost hear me strumming Leaning On a Lamppost and When I’m Cleaning Windows but George Formby I am not.

Nor would I be able to attempt many of the serious works performed by the Cockermouth club!

I want to finish with a moan about flying for our foreign holidays.

It’s been talked about for over 50 years.

When, if ever, will we be able to fly from Carlisle – or anywhere else in the county?

Ever hopeful!