A Sunday for Yourself: A Bookshop, Good Food and a Mini-Journey Within Your Own City

Some time last spring I noticed that I had spent three weekends in a row looking at flights I was not going to take, and that the part of the city I had never properly seen began about two miles from my front door.

So I tried something cheaper. I took a Sunday, told everyone I was busy, and treated my own city as though I had come a long way to see it. It cost about the price of a train ticket to somewhere I would have complained about. I now do it every couple of months, and this is the version that works.

The rules, such as they are

A holiday is mostly a change of rules, and you can change them without a passport. Mine are simple. Go alone, or with someone who is happy not to talk. Leave the house before you have had a chance to notice the washing. Go to a part of town you normally have no reason to visit. And do not run a single errand, because the moment you pop in for bin bags you are back at home, only further away.

Coffee, a second-hand paperback and an hour beside the water. Nobody needed anything from me, and I needed nothing else.

A loose plan for the day

The timings below are a suggestion and nobody is checking. They do matter a little, because British Sundays have their own habits: independent shops may open late or not at all, buses run less often, and small restaurants often serve lunch and then shut for the evening. Check the bookshop's hours and book your table on the Friday.

All in, that is about £30 to £45 at the time of writing, less if you take sandwiches and ignore me about the lunch.

The bookshop

Go without a title in mind. A second-hand shop is best, since you can spend £4 without any sense of having made a commitment. Start with the shelf you would never normally look at, then find the local history section, which in most towns contains at least one book by a retired headmaster with very strong views on the canal. Ask whoever is behind the till what they last loved. Most booksellers have been waiting all morning for someone to ask. Buy one book, and only one, or you will spend the rest of the day carrying a bag.

Lunch

This is not the day for trying somewhere new. Go to the small place you already love, where you know what is good, and order the thing you always order, plus a pudding. If you are not used to eating alone, ask for a seat at the counter if there is one, or by the window, and open your new book. We have more on the pleasures of a table for one in our guide to going solo, and it works just as well three miles from home.

The mini-journey

After lunch, travel a little, and walk if you can. The idea is to cross a piece of your city you have only ever seen from a car. If you like, drop the map altogether, using the method from a city without a plan. Either way, point yourself towards the water, because nearly every British city was built on some.

Ending by the water

It does not have to be a grand stretch. My own version is a walk along the Regent's Canal from Angel towards Victoria Park, about three miles, which takes an hour if you stop to look at the boats. There are plenty of others:

• Bristol: the Harbourside, then a walk round to the far side of the Floating Harbour
• Manchester: the canal basins at Castlefield
• Edinburgh: the Water of Leith Walkway, ending at the Shore in Leith
• Newcastle: the Quayside, crossing the Millennium Bridge and back
• Cardiff: the Bay, on a bench with a view of the barrage
• Glasgow: the Clyde walkway, best on a dry afternoon, should you get one

Find a bench and stay for an hour. Read the book, or don't. Watch somebody else trying to tie up a boat. Then go home by a different route, and if you can, walk the last bit.

It will not replace two weeks in the sun, and I would not pretend otherwise. But I went back to work that Monday feeling as if I had been away. If you like the idea of doing less, more often, you may also enjoy our piece on slow travel.