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.