For a certain tier of traveller, the ‘holiday’ has not been regarded as a ‘break’ for a very long time. Not overtly, not in the way it once was, all airline logos and laminated itineraries, but something more deliberate. The kind of travel that reveals itself in fragments, over lunch, halfway through a second bottle, when someone casually mentions where they’ve just sailed in from. Among the shrinking pool of those with the means, leisure has become part of the wider narrative. Not an escape from life, but an extension of it. This, inevitably, is reshaping things. Jets are booked with intent rather than convenience, weekends stretch further than they…