We all like to go on holidays, of course we do.

The build up to going, the counting down of the days, the preparing for it, the shopping, the packing,… whoa!

Did I just say the packing? No, no, no! If there is one thing other than all the washing, drying and putting away of clothes that could easily put me off going away, it’s the packing.

Right, we all understand that going away in our country is easier to pack for. Rain, cool weather, rain, bit of sunshine, rain.

Okay, I’m sure you know where I’m coming from, but we know roughly what the weather’s going to be like.

But when one is travelling abroad, to me the packing becomes a different ball game altogether.

I think that it all stems from quite a lot of years back when we went to Malta. I honestly believed that the weather would be hot, slightly cooler in the evenings but certainly not cold.

So, I packed for hot weather: tops, summer dresses, sandals, you know the sort of things.

Well, I can tell you, it was absolutely bloody well freezing. I spent most of the holiday shivering and shaking and the only colour I changed to was blue.

I took a thin cardigan thinking that this would quite suffice - oh how wrong I was. It even snowed. Yes, snow. People were coming out of shops and hotels to look at it, clearly something that they didn’t often see, and there I was turning blue in my shorts and sandals looking up in disbelief as the flakes descended upon us.

I’d like to tell you that this was the only time that I had been caught out on holiday, but alas it wasn’t. Lanzarote; I’d checked in the previous weeks leading up to us going and saw wall-to-wall sunshine.

Hot through the day, slightly cooler in the evening, but still comfortable. It was only by chance that I decided at the very last minute to take my coat out of the car at the airport.

By heck, I’m so glad that I did. Slightly cooler on an evening, still comfortable… my backside it was. If we hadn’t found a bar that had an outside heater, I swear I would have died of hypothermia.

So, on our last venture abroad, I was taking no chances. If it was going to rain, I was ready, if the heat was melting the pathways, I was ready, if it was cold, yes, I was ready.

The only thing that I didn’t pack were my welly bobs - surely we couldn’t get snow again. I did wonder if I should slip in a pair of good-fitting shoes into my hand luggage but resisted the temptation.

Luckily the weather was glorious, and a good time was had by all. Also, and I know that this is just me, but I still feel that I must pack everything but the kitchen sink.

I take toiletries, medications, plasters (in case of shoes rubbing), diarrhoea tablets in case of upset tummies, painkillers (headaches can happen), antihistamines and God only knows what else I can think of.

It’s a good job that there isn’t anything for swamp fever, because I can tell you I’d have it packed - I’m like a drug dealer but without the dealing.

And then of course there’s the dreaded weighing of the cases. I honestly live in dread of being over. On this occasion my case was well under, which was just as well because Pete’s case was well over!

Talk about stress!