Do you usually go "winter-escape" or "summer-escape" ?

I would go for a winter escape, New Zealand maybe. Anyways, I do not know a single person who tries to escape summer.

When I worked in middle east before, I always be a "summer-escape". I take my leave for 1 month just to escape at least for the very hot summer. I love the winter cause there's no winter in my home town country.

i am from the philippines and we dont have any winter. we only have wet and dry season. but during summer we make a chance to have a great escape if the budget allows. my son loves the water so we make it a point to go to resorts so he can enjoy. it is a big way too for me and my wife to relax too. we can also get massages that will add to relaxation. it is a good way for my wife too that she will not think what she will cook and in time for her to relax and dine.

I don't do either, myself, because I can't afford it. However, when my parents were living, daddy was on the real estate commission in Alabama and it seemed like there was always a convention somewhere just about every season. We always went somewhere, it seemed like. After he passed away, I travelled with tour groups a lot but I mostly went somewhere in the summer. I went to Branson, Missouri twice with tour groups and that was always in the fall.

I don't go anywhere but I'm happy when summer is over. I hate heat and I hate sun and I can't stand anything to do with sweating, brightness, or humidity. I much prefer to shiver and be cold. I love winter and if I could go to Antartica for the summer or somewhere cold, I would.

I like escape, no matter if it's summer or winter. Times they decide to go, simply, even if not ideal summertime. I love nothing more than to walk. Can only write, but the ideal solution would be to write about places I see. Often, however, I feel that no word, no matter how skillful, could not accurately describe the beauty of a landscape, the small moments that surprise, the car chase in the lives of those with whom the pass. A landowner who had placed the wood for the winter, a wagon with corn cobs entering the gates of a house painted in blue, a flock of geese who return from the pool, with roll and sharp cries. Moments that do not return, and the mere fact that it consumes your eyes, about the occasion is in its way, a small miracle. For these miracles, no effort seems not too much. And the way to somewhere that you want, that no matter where they are is an adventure in itself. Always another.