My most recent "holiday" was last weekend, at the Tolpuddle Martyrs festival. It couldn't have gotten off to a worse start. My Dad had died the week before and his funeral was on the first day of the festival. This not only meant that I was feeling incredibly low but also that we missed the shuttle bus, which we later found was the only public transport there. We ended up walking (with tent, sleeping bags, etc.) on the grass verge of a motorway in the baking heat (it's been a hot summer here this year) for several miles. By this stage I was hot, sweaty, tired, annoyed, and miserable.
Things quickly picked up when some fellow festival goers pulled up alongside us and offered us a lift the rest of the way. We'd assumed that we were getting close but it turned out we had only gotten half way at most. Once there the gentleman on one side helped us to pitch our tent while the couple on the other side made us a drink. This attitude was commonplace, everybody was happy to help anybody they thought could use help.
The festival itself was wonderful, full of people fighting for causes they believe in, with discussion of the issues involved and the potential methods to solve them. From anarchists to anti-frackers, hunt saboteurs to women's rights activists, everybody wanted to make a positive difference to the world and discussed ways to work together to achieve common objectives. The solidary, co-operation, and friendliness on display really lifted my spirits. I started the weekend dejected and miserable and ended it feeling reinvigorated and ready for another year of struggle.
You can keep your five-star hotels and luxury resorts, I'll take a tent in a field full of socialists any day.