I’ve just booked my first holiday in over a year. Cannot wait.

Last time I went on holiday (Vancouver, June 2000) I got Hepatitis. The time before that (Greece, April 2000) I got flu. I get sick when I go on holiday because I work myself into a state of stress when I’m not on hols, and then my body goes into nervous collapse from exhaustion and relief as soon as I step off the plane. Which means I’m more likely to get sick.

I hate it.

So this year, I’m working on a two-pronged attack. I’m going for a week and a bit to the Hebrides to see my mum and my little sister among others and spend a glorious time being in the fresh air, going for long walks along deserted golden beaches, chasing sheep, reading, looking out at the mountains and the sea and the other islands, going to the pub and doing pretty much nothing. Oh, and probably getting sick, too, because my body will suddenly be relieved. But so what? There will be enough people who love me around to ply me with soup and tea and TLC.

I’ll come back to London in October being rested and blithely happy. And then, craftily, the second prong of the attack. After a few short weeks spent being relaxed after the Hebridean adventure, and not getting stressed about anything at all, I’m going to head off to Costa Rica for a few weeks. Ha! Take that, pesky stress! I’ll sneak in a holiday and you won’t even notice…