Day one. We’ve escaped and headed to the sea. The seemingly endless school holiday makes working from home a tad chaotic, a relentless tug-of-war between clients and family. There are deadlines and Pokémon cards all over the place, piling on top of each other. Our holiday needs a holiday.

So for the next few days, our home is the wonderfully named Boggle Hole, a charming little YHA hostel (and former pirate hideout) just south of Robin Hood’s Bay in Yorkshire. Nothing to do here but take walks on the beach, eat fish and chips, gaze at the horizon, prod ex-crabs, bore everyone by excitedly pointing to locations from Phantom Thread, walk back along the beach. This is exactly what I need, the pressures of work out of sight and out of mind.

… Except maybe for an hour or so in the evening once the boy is asleep. Just a peek at my inbox to catch up on some urgent emails, chase a few outstanding invoices, that sort of thing. Maybe an hour in the morning too. Don’t want to take my eye off any balls or spinning plates while I’m away. Just the tiniest of peeks.

Curse these clients and their prompt replies! Shouldn’t they be on holiday?

Day two. OK, so that didn’t work. All my half-arsed good intentions have washed out to sea. Peeking has unleashed a barrage of tweaks, adjustments, amends and could-you-justs. Balls and plates everywhere. I can’t actually do anything about any of this – I neglected to invite InDesign on holiday with us – but it’s all hanging over me, itches that can only be scratched with more emails. Curse these clients and their prompt replies! Shouldn’t they be on holiday?

Day three. Yeah, sure, the sea, whatever. Phone-glancing and pondering and ruminating – I’m not really here, distracted by the to-do list at the back of my mind. I’m an accumulation of impending tasks in the shape of man eating some chips. Meanwhile, the boy is frolicking in a stream that runs past the hostel into the sea. At least he’s on holiday.

Millenia of coastal erosion has left a jigsaw on the beach for us to piece together into an impenetrable wall. It’s the perfect holistic distraction

Day four. Something wonderful has happened. It turns out that the best way to completely separate your mind from work is to do lots of work; specifically improvised and unwarranted civil engineering work. DAM BUILDING. With able assistance from the boy (there is no geological force on earth more powerful than a holidaying six year-old), I’m determined to shift the course of this small stream several feet to the left.

Millenia of coastal erosion has left a jigsaw on the beach for us to piece together into an impenetrable wall. It’s the perfect holistic distraction, mind and body occupied by the sourcing and excavation and movement and arrangement and rearrangement of rocks. This stretch of the Yorkshire coast is known for its fossils, but today those palaeontological treasures are only of interest if they tessellate just so. Everything is so simple right now; I’m not even sure where my phone is. Probably submerged in the foundations somewhere. Never mind.

There’s something incredibly liberating about the futility of this labour. The water is relentless, as is the flow of frustrated dads who will rearrange and repurpose our beautiful work a thousand times over the summer. The dam serves no purpose other than to be built. It doesn’t need to be invoiced or mood-boarded or run past marketing for suggestions. It’s for nobody. For a short while, this bit of water here is going over there, and that’s all that matters.

Day five. We are home. Emails are still here, they waited. And everything hurts. No more rocks. Please no more rocks. I need a holiday.

Daniel Benneworth-Gray is a freelance designer based in York, @gray; Image: iStock/Bplanet