Nightmare neighbours

Your average short-haul plane isn't exactly designed for a family of four, with three seats either side of the aisle. Over the years, we've experimented with a variety of combinations (the kids once sat on their own in front of us during an internal flight in Australia - bliss!) but we have pretty much settled on one configuration now: window, boy 1, boy 2, me/Lee, aisle, Lee/me, stranger, another stranger, window. To make it fair, we alternate - if I sit next to the boys on the way out, Lee sits next to them on the way back, or vice versa. We always viewed sitting next to the boys as the 'short straw' - much as I love them, they don't make the best travelling companions. Past journeys have been spent listening to constant questions, trying to stop them bickering, finding things they've lost/dropped, getting up and down to take them to the toilet, trying to stop the drinks spilling all over their trays and holding a sick bag primed and ready. To be fair, they're much better now they're older, but you still don't exactly get to sit back and relax uninterrupted with a book when you're sitting next to children. Sitting across the aisle, however, is a different story - you can read, watch something, listen to music or even go to sleep, with no one to interrupt or disturb you. This, at least, is the theory - and it seems to be the practice with Lee. For me, on the other hand, not so much - I seem to draw the short straw whoever I'm sitting next to. 

Our recent holiday to Spain is a case in point. On the way out, I sat next to the kids and Lee got the strangers. To be fair, the kids were pretty good, but they didn't exactly make for a relaxing journey. Lee sat next to a gay couple who spent the journey bitching about all the other passengers - not only was he undisturbed for the journey but he also had entertainment if he felt like earwigging. On the journey back, Lee got the kids and I got a man who took up more than just his own seat. Now I have personal space issues at the best of times, and I don't feel comfortable about physical contact with a stranger, especially a male stranger. Well, there was no avoiding it on that flight - my left leg was pressed up against him the whole time, there was no possibility of using the arm rest and I spent the journey leaning at an improbable angle towards the aisle, giving myself backache in the process. To top it off, the bloke behind me had unusually long legs, which he stretched out in the aisle next to me, and the bloke in front kept sitting back really heavily, making the back of the seat repeatedly bang against my legs. I felt trapped from all directions and would have gladly traded places with Lee to sit next to the children. 

The journey got me thinking about all the other passengers I've had the misfortune to sit next to, in front of or behind. While Lee usually sits next to a nice elderly couple, or businessmen concentrating on their laptops, I always get the weirdos or the difficult ones. They include:

• The couple who didn't get up once on a 12-hour flight to Singapore. To be fair, they weren't annoying, but I was worried for their health. What about DVTs? What about going to the toilet?!

• The girl who refused all aeroplane food on a long-haul flight, eating nothing but grapes she'd brought with her, whose leg did not stop twitching up and down for the last hour, and who thought nothing of hitting me in the face when she took off her jacket, as well as spreading her belongings out on her lap and some of mine. 

• The people who insist on reclining the chair in front of me, even during daytime, short-haul flights, and who don't even have the decency to put it back up when it's time to eat. If I had a bullet point for every time this had happened, it would take up the screen ten times over. (See Too close for comfort for more on this.)

• The man who fell asleep, snored loudly and whose head kept drifting worryingly towards my shoulder. 

• The cute toddler in the seats in front who spent the entire journey playing peekaboo with me over the back of the chair, making me feel guilty if I looked away for more than five seconds. 

• The not-so-cute toddler in the seats behind, who spent the entire journey kicking the back of my chair, who insisted on playing peekaboo by poking her head right through the hole between the chairs so that her face was approximately ten centimetres from mine at all times, and who thought pulling my hair was a great way to get my attention. 

• The parents of said toddlers, who thought they'd make their own lives easier by leaving it to me to entertain their children throughout the flight. 

• The arm-rest-hoggers - again, too many to mention. 

• The lady next to me who got up for the toilet repeatedly, meaning I was forever getting up and down and eventually gave up on anything that involved using my tray, including eating. 

• The man behind me who spent the whole flight getting up and down and felt the need to lean heavily on the back of my chair every time he stood up or sat down. 

• My personal 'favourite', the two over-excited pre-teen girls whose parents in their wisdom had allowed them to sit together, who were louder than my boys on a bad day, who decided to climb over me to go to the toilet instead of waiting for me to move, who fought each other physically so that my chair was constantly moving and I got kicked twice, who had no idea of personal space and thought it was okay to put their bags on the floor in front of my feet and their iPad half on my chair, and who eventually fell asleep ON me. 

So in the future I've decided that we will no longer alternate. Lee can have the strangers and I'll stick with the kids. Much as they can drive me mad sometimes, they're infinitely better than the annoying, seat-reclining, leg-twitching, personal-space-hogging nightmares I usually end up with - better the devil you know, and all that. Plus in a few years' time, when the kids are uncommunicative teenagers who only look up from their phones to grunt at the food and drink, I'll have the quietest, most undisturbed journeys ever. I'll finally have drawn the long straw, and I won't be swapping for anyone!

Four star favourite

I would never have considered myself a hotel snob - I spend half my life in a tent, for goodness' sake! I'm more than happy to stay in a Travelodge or a Premier Inn - I'll even stay in a Formule 1 if I have to! I've stayed in B&Bs with a communal bathroom. I've stayed in 2-star hotels with barely enough space to walk around the bed. I don't consider £100 a night good value for a hotel room and I'd balk at paying £150 unless it was a VERY nice hotel and a VERY special occasion. I'm more quantity over quality - I'd rather have a longer holiday in a bargain hotel, or have money left over to eat out or do other things, than spend it on a posh hotel. Peeling paint doesn't bother me - nor does a bit of limescale in the bathroom, a chipped cupboard door or a slightly threadbare carpet. I absolutely draw the line at dirty - but 'basic' or 'in need of renovation' don't really bother me. So why did I find myself disappointed on some level when we arrived at our perfectly nice 3-star hotel in Spain last week?

In truth, I think it was partly simply because it wasn't the Bitacora (If you can't beat them...), where we holidayed for the previous three Octobers. Our hotel in Spain could have been an amazing hotel but there would still have been an element of disappointment that it wasn't 'our' hotel. But I think it's also down to expectations and what you want out of a hotel. For many (okay, most) of our holidays, our hotel - or tent or cottage or mobile home - just serves as a base while we explore the local area. We spent days out and about, while our accommodation is just for sleeping, washing and sometimes eating in. It doesn't need to be posh, well decorated or have great facilities - as long as it's clean and comfortable, we're happy. But for the last few years, our October holiday has become something else. We spend the rest of the year exhausting ourselves by trying to cram as much in as humanly possible, but our October holiday has become more about chilling out, relaxing by the pool and letting someone else cater for us. We chose Tenerife four years ago because we had already visited the island previously and done lots of the touristy stuff, so we wouldn't have that feeling of missing out if we did very little and stayed mostly in the hotel. And that's exactly what we've done for the last few years - we've eaten breakfast, lunch and dinner in the hotel. The kids have spent mornings and afternoons in the kids' club, in the playground or in the pool, while we've been able to relax in the sun with a book and do very little. We've spent evenings in the mini disco and then in the bar watching the hotel entertainment. We have left the hotel - we went for walks, played mini golf, went to the beach, etc. - but we spent a large proportion of our holiday in the hotel and making the most of being all inclusive.

Once upon a time, that would have sounded like my idea of hell - in fact, on paper, it probably still does. But somewhere along the lines, your priorities and requirements change when you have children. You want somewhere with great kids' facilities, which they will enjoy. You want somewhere where you get some time to yourself as adults but also get to enjoy family time together. But most of all, you just want a break - a chance to relax mentally and physically, to escape from work, chores and stress, and to enjoy doing nothing in the sun. The Bitacora has fitted the bill perfectly.

Although we couldn't afford to book the Bitacora again this year, we spent a lot of time finding another hotel that would match our requirements. We found a four-star hotel in Menorca with excellent reviews - a brilliant kids' club, delicious food and lots of facilities. But then, after the whole Monarch fiasco and our holiday being cancelled (Monarch mayhem), we ended up having to book a different hotel in Salou instead. Because it was last-minute, we were very limited with time and with budget. This hotel was 3-star, reasonably priced and had good reviews overall on Trip Advisor. But, in hindsight, it wasn't really what we were looking for or what we had become used to.

Before I go any further, I should make it clear that there was nothing wrong with the hotel. It was 3 star. We paid less than £120 a night for bed, full board and all drinks for four of us - it was an absolute bargain. And we had a great time. But as somewhere to chill out, relax and enjoy the hotel - not so much. It was the little things. You had to find your own table in the restaurant and get your own drinks (and if you didn't want wine/juice, you had to get your drinks from the bar and bring them into the restaurant). You even had to get your own serviettes. Drinks from the bar came in plastic or paper cups. You didn't get given pool towels and had to pay a deposit for the TV remote control. The evening entertainment was not of a high standard. The food, while nice, was limited in choice. There were no pancakes at breakfast (this was a major disappointment for me personally). The kids' playground was basic. The pools were small and cold. But the worst thing, for me, was that it was very British. I know, I know, I am British. But if I go to Spain, I want to feel like I'm in Spain. I don't want to eat British food. I don't want every other guest in the hotel to be British. I don't want to give up on speaking Spanish to the staff because they all speak English regardless (and don't have time for your attempts at the language). And although I confess to liking a quiz and a game of Bingo (hey, we won both!), I'm not a fan of the whole 'Brits abroad' entertainment- it had a slight feel of 1970s Butlins. I have no problem with other British guests or the staff speaking English - far from it - but I would prefer a mix of nationalities and to feel like I'm experiencing a bit of culture. This hotel just didn't hit the mark in that respect.

As a base, this hotel was fine - more than fine, in fact. We actually had an apartment just outside the hotel, which gave us loads of space. It was clean, it was comfortable, the food was good, there was entertainment if we wanted it. But as somewhere to spend all day, every day, it wasn't ideal. It made me realise that I have very different expectations depending on the holiday. Most of the year we like to explore, see and do lots of things and keep busy, and we are very happy with cheap accommodation to use as a base. But when it comes to October, our chance to relax with a bit of winter (okay, Autumn) sun, all of a sudden cheap and cheerful just won't do. When it comes to spending your days by the pool, eating from buffets and taking advantage of the entertainment, you want that pool, food and entertainment to be something special. You want that little bit of 'luxury' - that extra star makes all the difference.

So next October, by hell or high water, we will be going back to the Bitacora. We will, of course, be looking for the cheapest possible accommodation for all our other holidays, in order to try to save enough money to pay for the extra expense of going four star in October. Hotel snob, me? Just occasionally.

Car hire catch

We've been hiring cars on holiday for many years. Back in the old days, we'd hire what we called a 'monkey car' - we'd find a small, independent hire company and hire the cheapest, crappiest car they had. It was an inexpensive way to explore and get to the places that public transport couldn't get you. 

Our monkey car in Crete, 2003!

As time went on and we had the kids, our requirements naturally changed. We wanted four doors, lots of boot space, booster seats and a generally safer, more reliable ride. Of course, with these extra expectations came extra costs, but it was still worth hiring a car for a few days for a bit of exploring (especially given the trials and tribulations of taking young children on public transport). 

Our Chevy (or was it a Chrysler? It began with a C!) in Florida, 2008

More recently, since we started booking holidays independently rather than booking packages, we've realised that it makes sense to hire a car for a week from the airport. It often works out cheaper than a shuttle transfer (and much cheaper than a taxi) - plus, not only can you drive yourself to the hotel without having to hang around, but you also have use of a car for the whole time you're away (and don't have to waste a morning wandering around looking for the best-value hire place!). 

But what you often don't realise until you pick up your hire car is that insurance is a whole extra cost. Many times we've seen that comprehensive insurance is included and thought we've got a good deal, but then found out that the excess is something ridiculous like £3,000. They will then offer you an upgrade to the insurance to bring the excess down to zero - but this usually costs close to or more than the hire itself. Even worse, certain things like windscreen and tyres are often excluded from the policy - but of course you can take out an additional policy to cover you for these. In short, you are faced with a Sophie's choice - you either pay out another £100 or more for peace of mind or you take the risk and spend the whole holiday praying you don't damage the car and end up spending more than the cost of your holiday. 

We've got used to paying the extra amount over the years, trying to remember to add it mentally to the hire cost right from the start. But earlier this year, during my surprise birthday trip to Sorrento (see Sorrento out of season), Lee thought that the extra insurance was just too expensive and decided not to pay it. He figured that he'd make sure he drove extra carefully and we'd be fine - after all, we drive at home every day without damaging our cars. How many accidents have we had in 20-odd years? What were the chances of an accident in the four days we were in Italy? (Yes, I know, with our record you'd think we'd have been a bit more concerned...) It soon turned out to be a bad decision - not because we did damage the car (I know - who'd have thought it?!) but because we spent the whole holiday worrying that we might. We may have been driving carefully but that didn't mean that anyone else was. Anyone who's been to Italy, particularly Naples, will know that the standard of driving is on a par with Mo from Driving School (remember her?) crossed with Lewis Hamilton. Let's just say that our Amalfi Coast drive was a somewhat hair-raising experience, and not because we'd hired a convertible. Needless to say, despite having turned out (sort of) okay in the end, we decided to pay the extra insurance in the future. 

Playing at Audrey Hepburn on the Amalfi Coast, with our already-filthy car

We didn't escape confetti and silly string all over the car as part of a local festival...

Then a couple of months ago we had a conversation I wish we'd had years ago with a friend who travels regularly for work. He told us that you could get a policy before you travel to cover you for insurance excess - and of course this policy costs a fraction of those they sell you at the hire company, despite offering the same benefits. Why didn't we know this? Why had we never thought to find out if it was possible? We looked into it and it's pretty straightforward. Lots of companies offer similar policies. You can either buy a single-trip policy, to cover you for a holiday, or, if you hire a car more than once a year, an annual policy for not a whole lot more than single-trip cover. In the end, for our upcoming trip to Salou, we opted for a single-trip policy with iCarhireinsurance.com for £23, as we're unlikely to hire a car again for another year - although I desperately wish we'd known about this before we went to Sorrento... 

We've been using price comparison websites for years for car and house insurance - you'd think we'd have thought before about something similar for hire cars. It makes sense - how else can hire companies afford to charge so little sometimes for car hire (we've actually seen car hire for less than £5 a day!)? They make their money through commission on the overpriced insurance. It's not a scam, it's not illegal, it's probably not even immoral; it's no different to car insurance companies hiking up their price when it's time to renew your policy - they're banking on you not bothering to check out alternatives. We're not caught out with our insurance at home, but we've clearly been caught out for years when hiring cars. And if we, who go abroad regularly and hire cars most years, didn't know about this, I figure there's a reasonable chance that a lot of other people don't know about it either. So I feel it is my duty to let everyone know about car hire insurance, and hopefully save you some money or stress (or both) when hiring a car. Of course, a potential consequence of people knowing about getting independent insurance is that hire companies will start putting up their prices to make up for the loss of commission. So feel free to spread this around - just not too far, eh?!

Monarch mayhem

In September last year, we booked our holiday for this October half-term. Yes, I know, it's taking being prepared to the limit, but we learned long ago that if you want cheap flights during school holidays, the earlier you book the better. We would have loved to continue our yearly trips to the Bitacora in Tenerife but we had to accept that, even with advance booking, we weren't going to be able to afford it a fourth year running - flights to the Canaries are always expensive and the hotel isn't cheap either. Instead, we managed to find an absolute bargain to Menorca - the flights were half what we'd been paying to Tenerife and the hotel, despite being four star and having great reviews on Trip Advisor, was actually pretty cheap too.

We should have known it was too good to be true - a couple of weeks after booking, the news was full of reports about Monarch being about to go bankrupt. Although we had booked with Travel Republic, our flights were with Monarch, and we held our breath. Then they were given a year's reprieve and we started breathing again. It didn't take us long to realise that it perhaps wasn't actually the best news. We were ATOL-protected, so if they had gone bust we would have been able to get our money back and still had plenty of time to book another (hopefully) cheap holiday. Instead, the moment of truth was going to come just a couple of weeks before our holiday. Still, there was nothing we could do about it except cross our fingers. We heard nothing more about it, Monarch seemed to be doing okay, and we pretty much forgot about it over the next year.

Then a couple of weeks ago we received an email from Travel Republic: our hotel had decided to close early - the day before we were supposed to leave, specifically. They had allocated us another hotel for our last night - also all-inclusive, also four star and also in a one-bedroom apartment. However, it was also right across the other side of the island and had much worse reviews on Trip Advisor than our original hotel. Still, it was only for one night - it wouldn't matter too much if the hotel wasn't as nice. What would matter, however, was the fact that we would effectively lose a day of our holiday. Instead of spending our last day on an excursion or relaxing by the pool (weather permitting), we would spend it packing, checking out, driving, checking in, unpacking and generally hanging around. We were just glad that we had booked a hire car - how on earth would we have got from one hotel to the other otherwise? Not to mention any potential difficulties in getting back to the airport if we had already booked transfers from the other hotel. Still, there was nothing that could be done. It was no one's fault (except the hotel's, but I was trying really hard not to hold it against them). In the great scheme of things, it was no big deal. We would just try to treat it like an adventure and the chance to try another hotel.

It wasn't the first time we'd been bumped in October. It may be half-term but it's also the end of season, and lots of hotels, restaurants and bars are already closed. The first time it happened was the year we got married - we had booked a bog-standard hotel in Crete and ended up being moved to a five-star hotel a couple of weeks before the holiday, as our original hotel had decided not to stay open until the end of October. We were pretty happy about that one. It happened again in Turkey a few years ago, although I think we were given a little more notice this time. The hotels seemed much of a muchness, they were in the same resort and it didn't have too much of an impact. This time was the first time it was due to happen in the middle of a holiday but never mind - at least we were going to stay in our nice hotel for the majority of the holiday. Plus it would make for a bumping blog post...

We should have realised that that wouldn't be it - this was a Sennett Holiday after all - but so caught up were we in the 'excitement' of the hotel change that we forgot all about Monarch. That was, until we went to the pub with friends last week. 'What are you going to do about your holiday?' they asked. We looked at them blankly. 'Monarch?' they prompted. We realised their year was up and, judging by the reports all over the news (which we had been oblivious to), it wasn't looking good for them. We checked the internet before bed - the midnight deadline was gone but there was no more news. We tried to remain hopeful. The next morning the news was not good - Monarch was no more. All flights and holidays were cancelled, those already on holiday were currently stranded and anyone without ATOL or ABTA protection was screwed.

Luckily, because we had booked a flight-plus holiday with Travel Republic, we knew we wouldn't lose our money. But we had no idea where we stood in terms of a holiday. Would they simply transfer us onto other flights? How was the accommodation affected? If we had to book another holiday, would there be anything affordable - and would we receive any refund in time to pay for it? And what about all those other things we had booked - car hire, airport parking and airport hotel?

It took a while to get some answers. Travel Republic were a little slow at putting out a statement, leading me to ask for one via Twitter and Facebook. Once the statement was out, it became clear that we could choose between a refund or an alternative, but it still wasn't entirely clear whether the holiday could be directly transferred to a suitable alternative (as had been going to happen with our hotel) or whether we would have to pay any extra. I managed to set up some correspondence via Facebook and via the customer support request on the website, and soon found out it was the latter. Fair enough - except there were no affordable alternatives. As I mentioned previously, the earlier you book the better when it comes to half-term flights. Booking less than three weeks before half-term - not to mention the fact that all the other airlines were quickly taking advantage of the Monarch situation - meant that the prices were extortionate. If we had still wanted to go to Menorca and stay in our original hotel(s), it would have cost us nearly another £1,000 to fly there. We started looking at other packages but everything seemed to be well out of our price range. A lovely client offered us use of a flat in Malta, but the flights were almost as much as our whole all-inclusive holiday had cost. We started thinking about a cottage in the UK somewhere but even they weren't that cheap. Add on food and days out - because lying on the beach wasn't going to cut it in sunny England - and we were paying almost as much as for our four-star hotel in Menorca, but with a lot less for our money.

We had miserably resigned ourselves to not going on holiday (the first October half-term in fourteen years!) when Lee had an idea. The current political situation in Spain, with regard to Catalonian independence, is pretty unstable - would that have transferred to the price of flights to Catalonia? Sure enough, a quick search on Travel Republic demonstrated that we could fly to Barcelona for not much more than we had paid a year ago for flights to Menorca. Catalonia was the only affordable alternative. They weren't the best-timed flights and they were with an airline we'd never heard of (Vueling, anyone?) but they were just about affordable. We found a few all-inclusive hotels in Salou that had space and plumped for the one with the best reviews. A double room with no balcony, on top of the flights, would have brought the holiday cost to about the same as our original holiday. Unfortunately, we didn't fancy sitting in the bathroom of an evening once the kids were in bed, so we decided we were willing to pay a little extra for a two-bedroom apartment (there weren't any one-bedroom options!). Overall, this holiday was going to be a little more expensive, but not too much - we just felt lucky that we had found something.

Of course, finding an alternative holiday was only half of it - we still had to work out how to transfer the old one across. I tried the trusty Facebook messenger and sent a message via their website, but soon got itchy feet. I tried to phone but after well over half an hour on hold I gave up. In the afternoon, with still no word on Facebook or the website, I tried to phone again - I couldn't even get through to 'hold' this time, and spent an hour listening over and over again to the engaged tone. We started to worry. There were lots of other people in our boat - what if they'd all discovered the same alternative as us? What if it had run out by the time we got through or what if the price had doubled? We decided the only 'safe' option was to book the holiday now and then try to get our refund. Luckily, however, a live chat window popped up while we were trying to book. The very nice man I 'spoke' to confirmed that our plan would work, and told us that he would cancel the original holiday for us and issue a refund. Success!

So where are we now, a week later, and with less than two weeks to go until the actual holiday? Well, Holiday Inn, with whom we had booked a no-longer-needed room at Luton airport, are in my very good books - despite us having booked at the no-cancellation rate, they have still given us a refund. I'm still waiting to hear from Holiday Extras, with whom we booked our airport parking, as to whether we can transfer our Luton booking to Gatwick, and whether it will cost us any extra. We've cancelled our car hire, which we didn't have to pay until we got there, but are yet to book a car for Barcelona. We received a random refund from Travel Republic for £182 today - we're yet to receive the rest (or understand where the figure of £182 comes from) and in the meantime we have a pretty whopping credit card bill ahead of us. The kids would really like to go to Port Aventura, the Disney-style theme park near Salou (and, if I'm honest, so would I) but this is another £200+ that we hadn't been planning on spending. Oh yes, and there's a reasonable chance of civil war breaking out at our new holiday destination, resulting in another cancellation or maybe just some interesting demonstrations while we're out there.

So what have we learnt? ATOL is very important, boys and girls - you never know what's around the corner. And next year maybe we will just stick with our tried-and-tested Bitacora in Tenerife, despite the cost - with any luck, British Airways aren't about to go under any time soon, and, unlike Menorca, Tenerife stays open all year round. In the meantime, I suspect there may be more October holiday disasters just around the corner...!

UPDATE
We now have all our money refunded by Travel Republic (minus a £10 ATOL fee I didn't realise we'd paid but I'm bloody glad we did!). Holiday Extras have kindly waived the cancellation fee for the Luton airport parking and we are now booked in at Gatwick. And we have booked car hire for around £30 less than we would have paid in Menorca. Trying to focus on the £30 car hire and £60 airport hotel costs that we've saved, and not the £10 ATOL fee, £40 credit card fee, £10 dearer airport parking and nearly £200 more spent on a 2-bedroom apartment...

The one with the earquaz (a Sennett Holiday Disaster story)

One of my earliest Sennett holidays was a few years before I officially became a Sennett, when Lee and I went to Cyprus back in 1999. It was a bit of a funny time - with the dawning of the new millennium, there was lots of talk among the superstitious about the end of the world. It was also the year that we had the total solar eclipse in Europe, which added to the superstition. Unfortunately, the eclipse occurred while we were actually on the plane, so we missed the whole thing (had we been a bit more informed, I'm sure we'd have timed things a little better!). 

We arrived at our hotel, having missed the excitement of the eclipse, to find the receptionist a little flustered. She told us that there had been an 'earquaz' that afternoon. We were confused. It took quite a lot of repetition and mimes for us to finally work out that there had been an earthquake. It hadn't been too serious (measuring 5.6), and there were no major casualties, but there was some building damage - as we saw on our wanders the next day - and most of the injuries that had been sustained were caused by panic (apparently, the timing of the earthquake in conjunction with the eclipse had led to more end-of-the-world panic and people throwing themselves out of windows...). 

Anyway, we went upstairs to our fourth-floor room, a little concerned about the news from the receptionist. But to be honest I was too tired to worry much. While all Lee could think about was food, the travelling had obviously taken its toll on me; I was exhausted and all I could think about was lying down on our nice new hotel bed. In the end we agreed that I'd lie down and have a little nap while Lee went for a quick wander outside to find some food. 

I was woken up rather abruptly by Lee throwing himself on the bed. I opened my eyes, annoyed, ready to have a moan, only to realise that Lee wasn't in the room at all. I was confused. Sometimes when you're half-asleep it feels like the bed moves, just as you start to drop off, but this was a lot more violent and a lot more real. As I was trying to figure out what had happened, the bed started shaking again. So did the pictures on the wall above the bed. In fact, so did the whole room. It took me an embarrassingly long time to work out that this was an earthquake (I blame having only just woken up). 

I was quite frankly terrified. Loads of thoughts rushed through my mind. How bad was it? How long would it last? Was I safe? Where was Lee? Was he okay? What should I do? I tried to remember advice for what to do in case of an earthquake but realised I'd never had cause to read any before. In the end I decided (not entirely sure why) that the corner of the room was the safest place to be. So there I went and crouched down until the shaking stopped. And there I stayed for quite some time afterwards, just in case. 

I was sitting back on the bed, probably still shaking myself, even if the room wasn't, when Lee finally walked in. (I should probably add that this was before the days of mobile phones, so I'd had no idea whether he was okay.) I threw myself on him in tears. 'Thank goodness you're okay!' I sobbed. He looked at me like I'd gone mad. 'What do you mean?' he said. 'The earthquake!' I managed. He still looked at me like I'd gone mad. Turns out he hadn't felt a thing. While I was busy feeling the earth move up on the fourth floor, down on the ground everything was as good as still. It hadn't been another earthquake - 'just' an aftershock. And not a very big one by the sounds of it, despite what it had felt like. 

It was a hell of a story to tell when we got home - we'd survived an earthquake (even if Lee hadn't actually felt it)! Since then we've had a couple of minor earthquakes here in Kent, so it no longer feels like quite such a big deal. (Although when I woke up to the bed shaking a year or so ago, I at least recognised it for what it was this time, despite the unexpectedness of it.) I still don't know what you're supposed to do in the case of a serious earthquake though - perhaps I should read up on it? After all, given our track record, there's a reasonable chance of us experiencing another one on holiday one day!

Storm in a saucepan

In less than three weeks, we're going camping in Wales. The current week's forecast for the area where we're staying is between 16 and 19 degrees, with more rainy days than dry ones - I haven't dared to look further ahead, but I'm not feeling too optimistic! I try not to let the weather spoil a holiday but it has to be said that camping isn't a whole lot of fun in cold and/or rainy weather. 

We've definitely had our fair share of bad camping weather over the years. We've never been brave enough to camp any earlier than the end of May (or later than August) but even the summer months don't guarantee good weather. In the past we've headed south in France, with the aim of getting some sun, but that still doesn't always work - we've had torrential rain in Spain and the French Riviera! The worst weather we ever experienced was several years ago in Andorra. Yes, it's in the mountains, so we were prepared for it to be a bit colder, but we weren't prepared for a storm that saw us desperately trying to hold down the tent in case it blew away. We didn't sleep much that night, and the following morning saw a campsite full of sleeping bags hung up to dry after tents flooded. 

More recently, we camped for a few nights in Hastings at the end of May. It was the first time we'd camped in the UK for five years and only the second time we'd camped in May with the kids (the first time was so cold I worried about the boys getting hypothermia). The forecast got worse the closer we got to going away - the temperatures weren't too bad, and the occasional rain cloud I could cope with, but the lightning bolt was starting to worry me. 

The storm hit just before bed on our second night. We'd been playing cards outside the tent, listening to the distant thunder and hearing the wind pick up. By the time we were in bed, the wind was howling, the tent was shaking and I was worrying. You can tell yourself that it will be fine, but I remember the 1987 hurricane - if the chimney down the road couldn't stand up to the wind, what hope did our tent have?! I told myself that the tent had survived the storm in Andorra and tried (unsuccessfully) to get to sleep. 

The wind eventually died down, although the thunder and the rain picked up. I relaxed a little. I was slightly concerned about the rain but the tent had survived torrential rain before without leaking. The thunder and the lightning didn't bother me, though - they may be loud and bright but they couldn't hurt me. Right?

But as the storm got louder and we realised it was right overhead,  I remembered that lightning absolutely can hurt you. And I was beginning to think that the thunder might also be able to. I have honestly never heard thunder so loud, and every lightning flash (they were constant) lit up the tent so brightly that it hurt, even with my eyes closed. I was actually genuinely terrified. 

It was at around this point that the other enemy of camping started to kick in - the need for a nighttime wee. I don't get it - it rarely happens at home so why does it always happen when I'm in a tent?! It could be the cold - nights get pretty chilly when you're in a tent, and I'm sure that doesn't help if you need a wee. It could be the jiggling on your bladder during the walk back from the bathroom before bed. More likely it's just Sod's law. It's bloody inconvenient to go for a wee in the middle of the night when you're camping, so it's Sod's law that you're going to need one. Unfortunately, this wasn't just inconvenient, it was downright impossible. Nothing was going to get me out in that weather - I'd end up wetter than Michael Gove and probably struck by lightning to boot! I resolved to lie there and hope it would go away. Fingers crossed I'd fall asleep soon and everything would be fine. Of course, I had no hope of falling asleep in a thunderstorm. The incessant thunder and lightning meant it was like trying to fall asleep in a nightclub (but with better music). 

It all came to a head when there was a sudden piercing scream, followed by a sob, coming from Dylan's bedroom compartment. Lee and I both sat up instantly. Was he just frightened by the storm or had the tent started leaking over his head? But as we waited for more noise from Dylan and heard nothing, we realised he was simply talking (well, shouting) in his sleep. But by this point there was no going back for me. There wasn't a hope of me getting to sleep until I'd had a wee - and I REALLY needed it.

I prayed for the She-Wee, which I'd bought for just such an occasion, to magically float out of the car where I'd inconveniently left it and into my hands. I prayed for a bucket to magically appear in front of me. Needless to say, my prayers weren't answered. Lee was laughing as I frantically searched through everything we'd brought with us, but I was nearly in tears by this point. Eventually, I came up with a saucepan - it was the biggest container I could find. Would I be able to aim straight? Would I be able to balance over it and not fall A-over-T or knock the damn thing over, like Mr Bean? Would it be big enough (I REALLY needed a wee)? And would we ever be willing it to use it again? I realised I didn't much care - the price of a new saucepan was a price well worth paying by this point.

Just as I'd pulled down my PJs and was stood poised and ready, we heard from Dylan again. 'I need a wee!' Seriously? A little background information: Dylan has never been good at such things when camping - he worries about splashing himself, being seen, etc., so the logistics of a nighttime wee with a half-asleep Dylan were never going to be good. Add this to the fact that he would have had to stand at least slightly outside the tent - in the middle of the storm - to be able to aim and ensure the tent didn't get flooded in a whole different way. The final straw was that I needed it so badly that I didn't think my body would be able to cope with hearing him go - and there definitely wasn't room in that saucepan for two.

I finally realised that we had no choice but to go out in the storm. I swapped my PJ trousers for shorts and put on my raincoat (which, unlike the She-Wee, thankfully wasn't in the car). I made Dylan take off his onesie and put on his raincoat. 'But everyone will see me in my pants!' whined Dylan. 'It will be embarrassing!' Don't think you really need to worry about that in the middle of a thunderstorm, Dylan. Everyone will be safely tucked up in their tent where I want to be, and not wandering the campsite at midnight in the rain... But actually, he was right. As we ran across the campsite in the pouring rain, trying not to listen to the thunder or think about how long (or short) there was between the lightning bolts and the thunderclaps, we were watched with some interest by a man who obviously thought it was a good idea to stand outside and watch the storm (or wait for mad women who needed the toilet in the middle of the night).

The good news is we both made it on time, which was a bloody miracle. The unsurprising news is we were both soaked by the time we got back to the tent (thank goodness the towels weren't in the car). The slightly surprising news is that it was actually weirdly exhilarating running outside in a thunderstorm. The reassuring news is that the tent made it through the rest of the night without leaking, breaking or blowing away.

Lessons for next time: Storms normally sound worse from inside a tent than they actually are. Tents can stand up to quite a lot (but make sure those guy ropes are tightly pegged in). Never leave the She-Wee in the car. Always bring several large, lidded containers in case of nighttime emergencies. Given the forecast for Wales over the next few weeks, I suspect we'll be putting these lessons into practice...!

Sorrento out of season

February is a funny time to go on holiday. If you're flying long-haul it's a different matter, of course - you're almost guaranteed sun in Florida, and the holiday season goes on all year in the Caribbean. But closer to home, the weather has a big impact. Most European breaks in February will see the weather being cold, grey, potentially windy and/or rainy and maybe even snowy. But it's not just the weather that affects a February holiday. At a typical 'city break' destination - Prague or Paris, perhaps - life goes on all year. The city is buzzing, everything is open and there are plenty of all-weather attractions to visit. But many European holiday destinations tell a very different story. Resorts like the Balearics, the Algarve, the Spanish Costas and the Greek islands work around the holiday season - i.e. the summer. Things start picking up around April-May and carry on until the end of October, when schools have their half-term break. This is usually the last week of the season, and things have started winding down. Many restaurants, bars and even hotels have shut for the winter already, along with lots of attractions and activities. Holidaying at a beach resort in October can often feel a bit like you're staying in a ghost town. February, I'd imagine, would feel even more like this - of course, life goes on in the winter for the people that live in the resorts, but there would be little to do for tourists. And so it was with some trepidation that I prepared myself for Sorrento in February (see Sorrento surprise for how this came about!).

We first visited Sorrento in August, at the height of the summer. It was 2003, the year of the hottest temperatures on record in the UK, and Italy was even hotter. We had an amazing time, but everywhere was very hot and very busy. Our trip to Pompeii, for example, was marred by the fact that I couldn't spend more than 15 minutes in the sun looking at ruins before I had to find somewhere shady to sit for a break. We spent a fortune on drinks. But everywhere was open, everything was available and it had that holiday feel. I wasn't sure what it would be like in February. I assumed all the major attractions would be open year-round, and with Naples only an hour away I assumed life would go on a little more than in some of the more obvious resorts, but would it still feel like a ghost town? We already knew most of the hotels were closed until the summer. What about restaurants, shops and bars? Would it be cold? Would we spend evenings wandering around in the rain looking for somewhere - anywhere - that was open for dinner? Would we find ourselves mostly confined to the hotel, as everywhere else was closed?

It turned out that February is a brilliant time to visit Sorrento. I admit we were lucky with the weather; although we had a bit of rain early on, it was generally dry, sunny and fairly warm, with temperatures hitting 18 or 19 on our last couple of days - not warm enough to sit on our balcony at night but warm enough to sit outside for lunch. The lower temperatures (in comparison to last time) made it much easier to make the most of our visits. This time, we were able to visit Pompeii properly and walk to the extremes of the site (and believe me, it's vast!) to see everything, without wilting in the heat. We were able to take a walk to the ruins at the Capo di Sorrento without collapsing from heat exhaustion. We didn't spend all our euros on drinks just to keep hydrated.

Ruins at Pompeii

Pompeii with Vesuvius in the background

Roman ruins at Capo di Sorrento

Another advantage of staying out of season is the lack of other guests at the hotel - which means better rooms sitting empty, which means free upgrades (or at least it did for us!). I definitely wouldn't recommend booking and paying for the best rooms if you're staying out of season, as there's a reasonable chance you'll get a free upgrade anyway. We had booked a standard double room at the Grand Hotel Aminta and ended up with a superior double with sea view and balcony. All the in-season facilities were still running, despite the small number of guests - bar, restaurant and regular shuttle bus to the centre. The advantage was that we didn't need to fight others for a seat on the bus or queue at the bar, and we received impeccable personal service at the restaurant, without it ever feeling intrusive. However, I would double check with any hotel before staying out of season (or read out-of-season reviews) to make sure that everything is still operating as normal, as many hotels may offer reduced services when they're not busy (for example, in bigger hotels, the kids' clubs often stop running in September or October).

View from our balcony

The other obvious advantage of holidaying out of season is fewer crowds. Pompeii was a hell of a lot nicer to visit without swarms of tourists behind every pillar. It was still relatively busy - no ghost town feeling here - but if you walked far enough it was as if you were the only people there. When we walked to the Capa di Sorrento, to the Roman ruins and the beautiful cove beneath, we had the place to ourselves. And when we drove along the Amalfi coast, through Positano and to Amalfi itself, we weren't stuck in a never-ending queue of traffic, we were able to park, we weren't trampled by tourists and we were able to find somewhere for lunch. That said, it was all still pretty busy and I would have hated to do it at the height of summer.

Cove at Capo di Sorrento

Amalfi Coast

Amalfi town

Of course, the one downside of visiting out of season (other than it not being hot enough to swim in the pool or lie on the beach) is the fact that not everything's open. The more day-to-day, 'high street' shops were open but some of the more 'touristy' gift shops weren't. There was a definite lack of open bars - and those that were open were either packed or didn't actually open till 11pm (and I'm way too old for that now!). There wasn't a whole lot of choice of restaurants either - although we found O'Parrucchiano open, which we liked so much we ate in twice! None of this was a major downside, though - although there wasn't as much choice as there would be in the summer, there were still enough options and there wasn't that deserted feel like we've experienced in the more 'obvious' resorts at the end of season.

Roof garden at O'Parruchiano

Overall, I'd definitely recommend holidaying out of season - in Sorrento at least! It's generally cheaper (an advantage I forgot to mention), it's lovely be able to visit attractions without crowds and queues, and the lack of heat can often be a bonus - plus you might even bag an upgrade!

View of Sorrento

Road to the harbour in Sorrento

Sorrento

A few tips for Sorrento in general (some based on 14-year-old memories!):

Places to visit - in addition to wandering around Sorrento itself - include Pompeii, Herculaneum, Vesuvius, Naples, Capri, Amalfi, Positano and all the other towns along the Amalfi Coast (with the drive being an attraction in itself).

Public transport is very straightforward and reasonably priced, so there's no point in paying for expensive daytrips.

There is a very straightforward train line (the Circumvesuviana) that runs around the bay to Naples itself, allowing you to visit Pompeii, Vesuvius and Herculaneum.

If you don't fancy driving, you can get the bus along the coast at least as far as Amalfi. You can also get boats to and from Positano, although even in the summer these weren't very frequent 14 years ago!

There are regular hydrofoil and ferry services to and from Capri. There is also a ferry to Naples if you're not keen on getting the train.

The first time we visited Naples, we got the ferry and have very positive memories. This time round, we got the train, and didn't like Naples at all. It felt dirty and unsafe. It may be that the area around the port is a lot more pleasant so I'd recommend taking the ferry if you have the choice. There are some interesting museums and buildings in Naples, so it's worth a visit, but be very aware of your surroundings and keep tight hold of your bag.

It is possible to visit Rome but it is a good few hours' train ride. We did an overnighter in Rome when we were honeymooning in Sorrento, but we were on a fortnight's holiday. Unless you're staying in Sorrento for a decent amount of time, it's better to save Rome for a separate holiday.

Driving in the area is quite frankly terrifying - as is being a pedestrian. Italian drivers quite rightly have a reputation, but it seems to be even worse in Naples (and the  Amalfi road is scary in its own right, being twisty and high up!). Be prepared for no lane discipline, being overtaken on corners and being cut up at every opportunity. And when crossing roads, you simply to have to cross your fingers, walk and hope!

Don't expect beaches in Sorrento. In the summer, decks are put out at the bottom of the cliffs, so it is possible to sunbathe and swim in the sea, but you're better off in Positano or Amalfi if you want sand.

Grand Hotel Aminta, Sorrento

Here's another cut-and-paste job from my Trip Advisor review. If you're planning on visiting Sorrento, particularly out of season, then I really recommend the Grand Hotel Aminta!

We stayed at the Aminta for four nights in February and have nothing but good things to say. As it was out of season, the hotel was quiet, which meant we were given an upgrade to a sea-view room with a balcony - a great start to our stay. We were greeted by a very friendly lady on reception, with perfect English, who advised us that the restaurant was open until 9.30pm. This was a relief, as we arrived late in the evening and had been worried about being too late for dinner. 

We were impressed that the restaurant remained open, with the full (extensive) menu available, despite the late time and only two tables being occupied. The food wasn't cheap but it was delicious, and the service was excellent - we enjoyed it so much that we chose to eat there again on our last night. 

Our room was lovely - clean, bright and airy with a king-sized bed that was so comfortable I wanted to take it home. The bathroom had a shower over the bath and complimentary toiletries. There was a TV in the room with a couple of English channels and a radio-alarm, which could be used to play music from (and charge) an older iPhone or iPod. Handy extras included USB sockets for charging your phone and a 3-pin plug socket. The view from the balcony was stunning, although it wasn't warm enough in February to sit outside. 

Breakfast was a hot and cold buffet - not a huge selection but more than sufficient and all delicious. The bar was open every evening, with an extensive list including cocktails. All staff - reception, restaurant, bar and cleaning - were friendly, helpful and spoke excellent English (although an attempt at Italian always goes down well!). 

The location of the hotel is one of its major selling points. Located high on the hills overlooking Sorrento and the bay of Naples, the views are amazing. The large windows in the restaurant and bar allow you to look out even from inside, while the pool and outside seating would be perfect in warmer months. 

There is an hourly shuttle bus from the hotel to the centre of Sorrento and back; it breaks for lunch but the last bus back is 11.30pm, allowing you to go out for the evening with no need for a taxi. Alternatively, you can make the 15-minute walk into town, through winding footpaths and passageways - the views are beautiful but it's quite a steep walk back up!

Overall, I thoroughly recommend staying in this hotel, particularly out of season - although I hope to come back again in the summer, when I can use the pool and the balcony!

Check out my short video of our room below.

Sorrento surprise

Two blogs ago, I wrote about the surprise trip my husband planned for my 40th (Magical mystery tour). You can probably guess by the title where we went! (Little did I know this when I wrote my last blog about my worst holiday disaster, The one I will never get over, which happened in the very same place!)

The funny thing is it had crossed my mind when I was going through possibilities but I'd dismissed it. I initially thought it might be Florence. There was no particular reason for this other than I'd taken Lee to Rome for his 40th and it seemed like a comparable option. Then I decided it was Budapest, based on the fact that a few ads for Budapest came up on Facebook, and I thought this was maybe because Lee had been looking up relevant things on the PC earlier. Then I thought maybe Hong Kong for the same reason - although I wasn't quite sure how we'd afford it!

I eliminated Hong Kong, along with several other places, when Lee mentioned we were flying from Gatwick, as some destinations BA only flies to from Heathrow. Someone suggested New York, which worked flight-wise. At some point, I came up with Lake Garda - not really sure where the idea came from but it also seemed like a reasonable possibility. 

Then I got a couple more clues. First was that Lee was thinking of hiring a car. Second was the very approximate leaving and getting-home times. The times immediately ruled out anywhere long-haul that involved travelling east. Car hire ruled out quite a few places - it was unlikely to be an obvious 'city break' destination. There was no way Lee was going to be driving around New York - or Florence for that matter. Lake Garda, however...

I mentioned in my previous blog that I'd done a tiny bit of research. That may have been a slight understatement. I may have searched the BA website for flights that left Gatwick at around the right time and then checked whether there was a returning flight that worked. I may have well and truly ruled out several possibilities, including Budapest, NY and Florence. I checked flights to Verona, the most common Lake Garda airport, but they didn't really work. I was surprised. I did, however, notice that there were flights to Naples that worked perfectly. Of course! It made perfect sense! We went to Sorrento (Naples is the nearest airport) 14 years ago for our honeymoon and have often dreamed of going back. The flights worked, the airport worked, the car hire worked, the whole destination worked. 

That idea went out of the window as soon I checked out the website for the Grand Hotel Capodimonte, the hotel where we spent our honeymoon - it was closed for the winter. We always go away in October half-term and, in places like the Balearics and Greece, it's the last week of the season. The hotel's about to close, lots of bars and restaurants are already closed, and everything's a bit quiet and ghost-towny. I realised Sorrento was also a summer destination so, with all the hotels closed, I found myself coming back to Lake Garda. I have no idea why I fixated on Lake Garda but somehow it just seemed to fit. I found out you could also get to Lake Garda from Venice and Milan. I checked out flights to Milan, which were a no-go, but the flights to and from Venice worked with the timings I had perfectly. We were back on!

I tried to get a few more snippets from Lee to confirm my suspicion. I told him I was thinking about what to pack and wondered what the weather would be like. He told me it would be similar to here but maybe a bit warmer. Tick. I asked about shoes - would we be doing a lot of walking and should I take my walking boots? He said we might be. Tick. I asked him whether I would end up suspending my diet while we were away. He said definitely - where we were going was famous for a particular type of food. Pasta, pizza or gelato? Either way, it fit! Tick tick tick! So sure was I, in fact, that I wrote 'Lake Garda' down on a piece of paper and put it in a sealed, dated envelope, ready to prove to Lee how clever I was.

On the morning of my birthday, Lee handed me an envelope. I took out several sheets of paper. The front one showed a beautiful night-time view from a hotel over an expanse of water. Lake Garda! I knew it! I obviously ignored the back-of-my-head feeling that something about it looked familiar, or the rather obvious outline of Mount Vesuvius in the background - when the next sheet had details of a hotel (the beautiful Grand Hotel Aminta) in Sorrento, I was totally confused. It took me a fair while to work out where I was actually going and to come to terms with the fact that all my detective work had been wrong. Of course, I was also made up to be going back to one of my favourite places on earth - and, despite me being sure I knew where I was going, Lee really had managed to surprise me!

The daytime view

I now have four years to come up with something equally amazing and equally surprising for Lee's 50th. Lake Garda, perhaps?!