Finally, we’ve crossed the finishing line - a marathon that began last August is now, more than 10 months later, over for all involved. The familiar cycle of the school year means that things ratchet up towards the end, with reports to write, exams to prepare for, and all those other end-of-year demands. Now, in theory at least, comes the bliss of a long, sun-dappled summer.

The idea of rest and recreation is, however, not quite as simple as it might seem. As a researcher points out, what is restful for one person is often tedious or stressful for another: some people like to commandeer a patch of sand and disappear into a book, others prefer to chuck themselves off the top of a mountain. (And some, of course, might like a bit of both.)

Research also suggests that what people consider restful is often strongly linked to a deep-rooted desire for solitude - rest can be understood, then, as a state of mind, rather than a reduction in the level of strain you put your body under. And that yearning for solitude would seem to make particular sense for teachers, whose workplace requires thousands of interactions with hundreds of people, at immovable times, day after day. Little wonder, then, if teachers want to be alone come the end of the year.

As you’ll see from our examples here, teachers find all sort of ways to retreat into themselves and their personal passions. But there is one thing that everyone seems to agree on - teachers really should resist the temptation to go into school during the holidays. Being in the school building, even if it does help you to “get ahead”, is few people’s idea of restfulness.

Writing for tes.com last year, Yvonne Williams, head of English at a school in Portsmouth, said that a proper summer holiday should be “a complete non-negotiable” for teachers (bit.ly/YWilliams). She argued the profession had such distinct and energy-sapping demands - working with 30 or so pupils in a succession of short periods - that “operating at such high intensity is unsustainable for teachers and pupils all year round”.

But Adam Black, a primary teacher who writes for Tes Scotland, says that many teachers go into school during the holidays to “work in peace”, “get ahead” with tasks, and “look good” in front of their headteacher (bit.ly/AdamBlack).

He admits to doing so himself and says “it didn’t feel good” (although he wasn’t merely drumming his fingers - going in did prove to be a constructive use of his time). Black agrees that “a holiday is essential so you can recharge your batteries and give your all to the classes you teach when you return” - and says those who take a proper break “will do better than staff who are jaded and carry a sense of bitterness for having had to go into work during the holidays”.

Yet, a YouGov survey of UK teachers published during the 2018 summer holidays - commissioned by health and wellbeing charity the Education Support Partnership - revealed that the time teachers expected to spend working during the summer had increased by a third over the previous five years, and that more than half worried to a “large extent” about the amount of preparation needed for the upcoming year.

Similarly, a Tes Scotland Twitter poll last month asked teachers and education professionals if they felt able to switch off as much as they’d like to during the summer holidays. About two-thirds said they couldn’t.

As you can see on the following pages, teachers are an eclectic bunch, and can be found doing all sorts of things during the summer, from careering along treacherous mountain-top paths to working on a cruise ship or writing their debut novel.

But for Susan Ward, a primary depute headteacher in the Scottish Borders who writes for Tes Scotland, it is crucial to remember that “it is also totally valid to have no plans at all” for the holidays.

Ward fears, in modern society, the “relentless pursuit” of experiences worth sharing on social media means that “if you are not swimming with sharks or scaling the Andes, you might feel like your summer holiday has been a total bust”.

Teachers have a unabating stream of to-do lists to get through during the school year, she says, and it is hard for them to get out of that mode - but it is critical for their mental health that they do.

“The simple, purposeful decision to do nothing is powerfully subversive and it could be the best thing you ever do,” Ward argues.

So, do all the teachers who were contacted for this article have anything in common? Is there one ingredient for a restorative summer break that is equally important to thrill-seekers and those stepping away from the frenetic pace of modern life?

The overriding message that came through was this: whatever a teacher does over the summer, it has to be on their own terms. Some will escape to far-flung lands, some will retreat into themselves. Some will get their pulses racing, some will gorge on box sets. Some might even spend a bit of time in school, hoping to make the return after the holidays a bit less stressful.

It’s not about taking out a second mortgage for a “keeping up with the Joneses” holiday, or doing a few half-hearted sit-ups to emulate the endless stream of toned bodies on Instagram, and it is definitely not about going into school simply because the head demands it. The only constant of a fulfilling holiday seems to be that a true break comes from spending the summer doing what you really want to do - whatever that may be.

Henry Hepburn is news editor for Tes Scotland. He tweets @Henry_Hepburn

‘I’ll be scrambling and skidding over Scottish mountains’

It’s 6 o’clock in the morning. Frost crunches beneath my shoes. I can’t feel my fingers or my toes. The light from my head torch dances along the path, guiding me home. As I rush into school an hour later, the heat hits me like a wall. Struggling out of my layers, I log on to the computer and prepare for the day ahead, smug in the knowledge that I’ve stolen 30 minutes of calm.

Throughout my PGDE, lecturers were constantly reminding us of the importance of hobbies - something to distract, amuse and entertain us when teaching threatened to become stressful or overwhelming. I must admit, I often zoned out. I already had a hobby that provided the perfect escape from the classroom.

For the past few years, I have spent my spare time skyrunning, which consists of moving through the mountains as fast as you can - running, scrambling and power-hiking until your quads burn. Skyrunning races take place on mountains over 2,000m high, with sections of 30 per cent incline and highly technical terrain. Often, this means you’re tripping along rocky ridges, skidding across snow patches and trying desperately not to put a foot wrong while also admiring the view.

This summer, I’m hoping to do the Skyrace Comapedrosa, in Andorra, and a few days later head north to the Arctic Circle for the Hamperokken Skyrace in Norway. My most recent event was Skyrace des Matheysins in France. This was one of the first races in the international Skyrunner World Series, and was a bit of a mad dash. Between leaving school on Friday and flying back on Sunday, I had barely 24 hours in France. The journey was more than worth it. The path twisted up through what’s known as the Devil’s Garden (an accurate reflection of this section’s difficulty and beauty) to a height of 2,216m, where winter’s blanket still lay deep. At times, I was wading through waist-deep snow, then I was sliding down the mountain on my bum, trying to pretend the cliff five metres to my left wasn’t there. It was simultaneously exhilarating and terrifying.

For me, there’s no better way to refresh my mind and body. On Monday morning, I was back in the classroom - a touch of snow burn the only clue to my adventuring.

Georgia Tindley is a probationer English teacher at Kingussie High School in the Scottish Highlands

‘I’ll be working on my debut novel’

Do (or don’t do) what you want this summer. Be happy and well. If that means hopping on a jet ski in shark-infested waters, good luck to you, my friend - just be sure you’re hitting the waves for the right reasons. I recently signed a contract for my first novel (see bit.ly/TheMashHouse).

I’ll be spending this summer working on the manuscript. The story is set in the Scottish Highlands, so I’d like to take a few road trips to immerse myself in the landscape. I fancy the idea of writing in parks, cafes and forests rather than at a desk. I hope to go to some spoken-word events around Glasgow as well. It’s difficult to do so when I’ve got classes the next day. I usually go to school early and stay late, so it’s hard to find enough time and head space to write during term time.

I get lots of inspiration for stories, but teaching is such an all-consuming job that it’s a struggle to see them through. Stories come from the people I meet and things I overhear. And it’s natural for an English teacher to want to write. We spend our days analysing and admiring good writing. Being a teacher has made me a better writer, and vice versa.

It’ll be great to have something concrete to focus on over the summer. Some years, I’ve felt guilty for not achieving anything, and it’s good to keep busy, so I’m going to the Belladrum music and performing arts festival up north, and I’m plotting some fairly substantial warfare against the weeds in my garden. Oh yes, and there’s that book to write …

Alan Gillespie is principal teacher of English at Fernhill School in Glasgow

‘I’ll be taking a cruise - as an employee’

It started off as a joke with colleagues, when I was sent a job advert for summer work in a kids’ club on a cruise. Then I thought, “Actually, this would be ideal.”

In the five years since I became a teacher, I’ve usually had a job during the summer - six weeks is too long for me to sit still. Before, I’ve worked with the Lothian Autistic Society and helped out at play schemes. I thought, “Well, there’s no harm in applying.” Lo and behold, I got an email back asking me to come for an interview. I travelled down to Southampton and was offered a position. I’m excited about starting.

I’ll be based in the Netherlands for a week, and then Spain and France for a week each. When the boat is docked, you do only three hours in the morning and evening, so I can explore for the rest of the day. Even on sea days, I’ll work four hours at a time. I’ll be doing some sort of game show-style quiz, there’s a pirate day (“Arrrghh!”), and I think face painting will feature prominently. We’ll be expected to liaise with the parents as well.

As a teacher, I’ve dealt with safeguarding, which is a hugely important aspect of working on the cruise. I’ll be with younger children beside a soft play area and plenty of toys, but I can also bring my own ideas for games or activities. Being a teacher might just come in handy …

Amanda Carmichael is a teacher at Canal View Primary School in Edinburgh

‘I’ll be in the middle of nowhere with no signal’

Six weeks off. No reports, assessments, planning, meetings, marking, extracurricular activities. The summer holidays give you a realistic chance of forgetting about workload and unwinding from the hectic lifestyle of a teacher - and with two teachers and three schoolweans in our family, it’s a much-anticipated break.

One of these precious weeks is earmarked for a trip to a genuine Scottish but and ben - a friend’s wee, isolated cottage near Glen Esk. No phone signal. Chopping wood for the fire. No shower (and limited hot water). No internet. No telly. Surrounded on every side by roaming sheep. It’s a millennial’s nightmare - but we love it.

We explore the beautiful countryside, do a bit of kayaking, play endless hours of board games, channel the frustration about missing jigsaw pieces into amusement. There’s the adventurous discovery of animal skulls in the wood, taking time to doodle, praying more, getting immersed in that book you couldn’t find time for during the term. 

There’s something incredibly refreshing and utterly liberating about being in the middle of nowhere with the people you love most. It wonderful being temporarily oblivious to what’s going on in the rest of the world and what’s kicking off on social media. Instead, you’re entirely focused on each other - enjoying long conversations as the sun sets, or sitting together in silence, holding your cuppa tightly as the sun rises. These are moments that strengthen your family, when you create lasting memories and maybe even rethink your life’s priorities.

Teaching is brilliant - but a break like this is the ideal way to recharge your batteries and get geared up for starting again in August.

Chris Smith is a maths teacher at Grange Academy in Kilmarnock, East Ayrshire. He and his family recently won BBC Two game show The Family Brain Games

‘I’ll be preparing for The Fringe’

This summer, I’ll be launching EduMod, which I believe will be the first series of events with such a specific focus on education to take place at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe. The title is an amalgam of “education” and the word “mòd”, taken from the Gaelic for “assembly” but usually associated with the annual festival of Scottish culture, music, language and art.

The aim is that EduMod will feel very different to a conference, and be a wide-ranging exploration of ideas that drive education in the 21st century. We’ll explore themes like the legacy of the slave trade in Scotland, the extent of diversity in education, the role that schools play in social mobility, and the causes of mental health issues in Generation Z.

There are 12 sessions from August 5-21, and the launch event will tackle a huge issue: is Curriculum for Excellence fit for purpose? And if we want a version 2.0, what should it look like?

I’m organising EduMod with my co-director, Louise Hunter of Summerhouse Media. I previously worked with her on the Festival of Education at Wellington College in Berkshire, which she produced for eight years and which was established by Sir Anthony Seldon - he’ll be speaking at the inaugural EduMod on the impact that artificial intelligence will have on humanity.

Louise and I both moved back to Scotland two years ago and have worked really hard to launch a similar event but with a distinctly Scottish feel. Where better to do that than the Edinburgh Festival?

Robin Macpherson is assistant rector at Dollar Academy in Clackmannanshire

This article originally appeared in the 5 July 2019 issue under the headline “Holiday romance”