3 weeks left and finally I get to put my feet up for the first time in, ooh 4 months. Yeah OK, but it has been a tough 4 months and I reckon I deserve this holiday.

I expect the normal will happen, we get to the airport far too early because my parents convince us it’s the right thing to do - what if there is a sudden closure of all major routes to the airport, what if there is only one person on check in and you’re late, what if you get lost even though you’ve been there a thousand times, what if, what if, what if?

So we get to the airport, with absolutely nothing to do for 3 hours. I’m not good when I have nothing to do. Boredom is a killer for me. Actually my husband more so as I become really rather annoying in the desperate attempt to amuse myself at his expense. I have about 30 minutes of doing nothing before the terror sets in so it is vital we think of something to do very quickly for the sanity of everyone around us. The slightest irritant from someone will start me off – I have very little tolerance of other people when in transit from one country to another.

Well what better thing to do than to have a totally overpriced breakfast from the award winning crappiest restaurants in Britain designed especially for your comfort when you are stressed and going on holiday. Silver service eat your heart out, you can’t beat being served by a spotty teen still learning to write who 2 minutes earlier you saw picking his nose. This is what makes the experience so classy. When your breakfast is finally delivered 45 minutes later, you could quite reasonably ask the question of where on the plate the food is and toy with the idea of whether it was actually eaten on it’s way to your table, especially since the waiter is chewing – oh no, hold on, that’s chewing gum. This is such a cool place.

If I manage to get out of the restaurant without having an argument with the manager it is normally a bonus. That killed an hour though so what now. Some retail therapy may be in order. With 10 shops to choose from and a husband in tow it’s not easy to convince yourself you are interested in what they sell so as you can look at every item to pass the time. In fact, on average I probably spend about 2 minutes in each shop before bored and leaving for the next one. This would be OK if it was a huge shopping mall but very quickly all shops would have been visited and all my husband wants to do is sit down and read his flipping book. What about me, I need another 2 hours of mental stimulation or your life will depend on it. Tempers will be flaring – is that what you want? By this point he is already engrossed in his book and has not listened to a word I have said. Oh my God, my anger metre is really creeping up.

Alright so I sit down and try to remain calm, attempt to read a book which after 3 sentences is more than enough and I can’t focus. I now use this opportunity for people watching which I love! When there are no more interesting people to look at and the families I was watching have boarded for Ibiza, the interest disappears. Now I’ll see if I can prompt an argument to get some dialogue going. Bless him all he wants is a quiet life, but more importantly I am bored, and therefore need attention. He takes the bait, but is always so incredibly calm that arguments never really take off. My anger metre now pretty high, we walk to the gate.

Boarding the plane is one major source of irritation for me and with my anger and boredom at their very limits, anything could now be enough for me to burst. Such as people that are insistent on bringing their worldly possessions on holiday that they can’t cope without for 2 weeks, and then bring them in a massive bag into the cabin and block the isle for ages whilst they dig around for the one thing they want at the bottom before taking up the whole overhead locker with their junk. You then have the kid that sits behind you whose irresponsible parents think it is endearing to see it kick the back of your chair for the entire journey - adorable. You have the guy in the next isle that snores badly, or the person in front of you with a fascination for the back rest, the person that has to stand up and strut down the isle for the entire flight and get in everyone’s way, the time you want to sleep and are bothered every 15 minutes by the sound of the trolley going backwards and forwards. Then there is the turbulence – WE ARE ALL GONNA DIE !!!

I am not the best traveller as you can see, my nerves are shattered, my boredom is more noticeable, my stress levels increase, I become argumentative, people annoy the hell out of me during this time and to cap it all, I hate flying and generally have an over active imagination. It is a 10 hour white knuckle ride and I am the only one in the plane who really believes that at any moment it can take a nose dive and spin violently out of control… If you can take one word of advice from me though it would be this: ensuring your back rest is in the upright position (that is 1 inch straighter than when it is not upright), can be an absolute life saver should the plane truly plummet 35,000 feet to earth. The safety video also indicates this!!