For my holiday this year I stayed at home. Yes, home. I don't mean that I went on holiday in England either. I mean that I just didn't go to work for two weeks.

You could make an economic case for this, but the truth is that I couldn't be bothered. If we go on a family holiday, who books it? Who makes sure everyone is packed? Who gets everyone up in time and then directs us to the correct long-term parking (which also has to be booked)? Who then spends the journey arbitrating between Cost Centres about who has whose iPod wireless headphones and other such disputes? And then, when we get there, who has to arrange the catering?

The phrase “self-catering holiday” is an oxymoron. For me, self-catering is never a holiday. It might be a holiday for everyone else, but who does the meal-planning and most of the supermarket runs? Who does the laundry? Women might have achieved equality in (some) careers and compensation, but those of my generation certainly have not achieved it at home. And definitely not on self-catering holidays.