But here’s the silver lining: August has one bank holiday (the last Monday), and it tastes sweeter precisely because July was so stingy. It’s like surviving a month of plain toast and then getting a warm chocolate croissant. You appreciate it more. You plan your August bank holiday like a military operation—booking campsites six months in advance, praying for sunshine, and stockpiling sausages. July’s drought makes that Monday in August feel like a minor royalty.
I remember one July—2018, I think—when my buddy Dave called me on July 20 and said, “Mate, I can’t take this anymore. I’m creating my own bank holiday.” He took a random Wednesday off, bought a paddling pool from Argos, and spent the day in his garden with a radio and a bottle of rosé. He called it “Dave’s Day.” No one got cards. No one celebrated. But he smiled. And that, my friend, is the essence of July: you make your own fun.
The Final Nod
So, is there a bank holiday in July? Technically, no. But in the hearts of millions of exhausted workers, there should be. We all know the struggle—the mid-summer slump, the longing for a three-day weekend that never comes, the way you secretly Google “bank holidays 2026” at your desk, hoping for a clerical error. There isn’t one. But we survive, because we’re British (or just working stiffs anywhere). We complain, we joke, we take a random Thursday off and call it a “mental health day.” And then August comes, and we feast.
So here’s to July: the month without a bank holiday, but full of unofficial victories. You’ll make it. Just stock up on ice cream, avoid looking at the clock too often, and remember—Dave’s Day is always an option.
