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?!

The one I will never get over (a Sennett Holiday Disaster Story)

I always tend to assume that our Sennett Holiday Disasters are down to the trials and tribulations of holidaying with family - but perhaps that's simply because the kids arrived before Facebook and that's the point at which everyone knew about them. In actual fact, Lee and I have had many a disaster pre-children - and my own holidays with friends haven't exactly been plain sailing either (sadly making me the common denominator here). My first official Sennett disaster, though, was my first holiday as an actual Sennett - our honeymoon. We went to Sorrento, and it was amazing in almost every way. Our visit to Herculaneum, however, was less successful...

The site was a train ride and then a walk away. The train was busy, but we managed to find seats opposite a German couple. There were no toilets and by the time we got to the station, I was pretty desperate for a wee. However, nothing would have possessed me to use the toilets in the station - they were filthy, unisex holes in the ground with no doors. I realised I'd just have to wait till we got to Herculaneum, and so we began the fairly long and very uncomfortable trek to the site. 

By the time we got there, I was so desperate I was nearly in tears. We walked straight past the main entrance sign to a shack that was signposted 'toilets' (or more likely 'servizi' but it was a long time ago). I was a little underwhelmed - they weren't a whole lot better than the toilets at the station, and certainly weren't what I'd expect from a world-famous tourist spot. It was one toilet, with no paper or sink, in what was basically a shed with no lock. Still, beggars couldn't be choosers. I asked Lee to watch the door and in I went. 

Some time later, feeling greatly relieved, I stood up - and the door opened. In the doorway stood the German man who had been sitting opposite us on the train. He stood there and stared. I stood there in all my glory with my pants around my ankles, rooted to the spot. Eventually he closed the door. I sat back down on the toilet, cheeks (of the facial variety) burning. Humiliated didn't come close. How was I going to be able to leave the toilet with even a shred of dignity? And what the hell was Lee doing while random men opened the door on me going to the loo?!

A few things acted like extra slaps to the face after my initial embarrassment. The first was that, after composing myself and opening the door, the German man was still standing right outside. He didn't have the decency to go and wait further away to allow me to leave with my head held high (or at least not firmly attached to my chest) - no, he stood right next to the door, leaving me no alternative but to have to physically brush past him, all the while knowing he'd just seen things he really shouldn't have seen. Then, to make matters worse, I spent the entire visit to Herculaneum trying to dodge him and his girlfriend (who, I'm sure, knew about the whole 'hilarious' event). It didn't seem to matter where we went and what we looked at - there they were, like proverbial bad pennies. I literally ended up hiding behind walls and ducking into doorways to avoid them. There was no chance of me being able to forget my embarrassment, as I felt like I was being followed by a constant reminder. The final nail in the coffin was the fact that, if I had just walked another 100m into Herculaneum, there were some beautiful, clean, LOCKING toilets, complete with toilet paper and sinks, right next to the ticket desk.

And what had Lee been doing while all this was going on? Did he get distracted by some ruins or had some terrible accident befallen him? No. He was watching it happen, doing nothing about it. His excuse? 'You told me to watch the door, you didn't tell me to stop people going in!' Seriously. Because I thought he'd find the door interesting and didn't mind at all if people opened the door on me mid-wee... Suffice to say, the honeymoon was very nearly over as soon as it had started, and it was nearly the first and only official Sennett Holiday Disaster!

Magical mystery tour

Anyone who knows me personally will know that I'm a complete control freak. It should therefore come as no surprise that this applies particularly to holidays. I like to know where I'm going, when I'm going, how I'm getting there and what we'll be doing, and every holiday we have is organised predominantly, if not exclusively, by me. Lee's boss has found it funny that Lee asks for leave so far ahead, and that I have the year's holidays mapped out already, but that's partly what comes from working as a teacher (and having kids in school): you basically know years in advance when you're going to have holiday time (that'll be Christmas, Easter, summer and half-terms). You also know that school holidays are the busiest (and most expensive) times of year, and the sooner you book up the better, in terms of both availability and cost.

So I like to book ahead. I like to shop around to find the best prices. I like to check Trip Advisor reviews to find out whether it's somewhere worth staying. I like to find out travel times and options - do we need to book airport parking? Is there a train station nearby? Do we need to break up our journey with an overnight stay? How long will the journey take? I also like to investigate what there is to do nearby - is it child-friendly? Are there restaurants in walking distance? Do we need to pre-book any trips? In theory (although you'd probably never believe it, reading some of my blogs), all this organising should make sure that everything goes to plan - that we like where we're staying, that there's plenty to do and that we can get there okay. And, on the whole, it works. We have, without a doubt, had our share of holiday disasters, but rarely are they down to lack of planning. We've never stayed somewhere we didn't like, we've never been bored and we've never found ourselves stuck somewhere without knowing how to get home/back to our hotel.

I also like to organise everything because then I can look forward to it. Part of the excitement of a holiday is looking forward to it and planning everything. I like to read reviews in the run up to our trip, to plan activities and to look at photos of the area - it cheers me up, especially on a cold and miserable day!

So you can imagine how hard I'm finding it not being able to plan for my next holiday. So far removed from the planning am I, in fact, that I don't actually know where I'm going. I'm referring to wherever Lee is taking me for my 40th birthday next month. It's not a complete surprise, obviously - I know I'm going somewhere. Poor Lee knew he had to pull something out of the bag when I took him to Rome as a surprise for his 40th (Surprise 40th (a Sennett Holiday Disaster story)) and I told him he had six years to plan mine. I also knew I'd be going somewhere when all our holiday plans for the year studiously avoided mentioning February. Plus, what else would you get a holiday-obsessive for her 40th birthday?! In the end, I had to find out the dates of when we're going. Being self-employed, Lee could hardly arrange leave with my boss on the quiet - instead, I had to ask Lee when I'd be away so I knew what to tell clients. But still, other than the dates, that's pretty much all I know.

So, I can't read reviews. I can't look at photographs. I can't plan what we're going to do. I can't even write a list of what to take and/or wear. However, I've found a new obsession - guessing where I'm going on holiday. I'm trying desperately to come up with suggestions and get them proved or disproved. A couple of destinations have come up on my Facebook ads, making me wonder whether maybe that's because Lee's been looking at the same places. I've tried to think about places I might have mentioned I'd like to visit that Lee might have picked up on. Lee's dropped me a few nuggets - I know which airport we're going from, which airline we're using and the very rough times of day at which we're travelling. I know that Lee has considered hiring a car, and that it's apparently somewhere I won't guess. This certainly enables me to rule out a few destinations, but the possibilities are still endless. And, of course, he could be telling me a bunch of fibs just so I can't work it out!

The really funny - and slightly surprising - thing is, though, that I actually don't want to know. A few times, Lee has asked me if I just want him to tell me, after I've been winding him up trying to get it out of him. And the truth is, I don't! I can't pretend I haven't done a tiny bit of detective work but, in reality, I'd be gutted if I found out. I'm actually enjoying the excitement of having a surprise - probably because I'm such a control freak that it's very rare that anyone manages to surprise me! I feel like a child again, getting excited about my birthday for the first time in a very long time, and I'm thinking about it constantly. And I honestly won't be disappointed wherever we go (okay, within reason) because I love pretty much every type of holiday - plus it's a few days of 'us time' without the kids, which will make it special wherever we are.

Today I surprised myself by just how much I genuinely want it to remain a surprise. Getting back from the school run, I picked up my phone to see I'd had an email from Holiday Extras and a text from Lee, which read 'If you get anything from airport parking DON'T OPEN IT!' He'd booked the airport parking via a discount code I'd forwarded him, so the booking email - complete with flight details - had gone straight to my email address. So there I was, confronted with the opportunity to find out exactly where I was going. And I amazed myself by covering the email with my hand so that I could forward it to Lee, before deleting it from both my phone and the PC. I actually didn't want to know. It's true, honestly - amazing restraint! I can't pretend it's not killing me slightly, knowing the answer is there to find in my deleted folder, should I so wish. But somehow it's made it even more exciting, knowing how close I was to finding out.

So the subject of my next blog is a bit of a mystery to me too. Hopefully, it'll be full of tips about hotels and things to do in Florence/New York/Vienna/Budapest/Hong Kong/Vienna/Lake Garda/Dubrovknik/Copenhagen/Reykjavik/Berlin/Madrid* (delete as appropriate)!

*My final guess is in that list somewhere. I'll let you know if I was right!