It's at least three decades since I stayed in a caravan.

Most tourists can't get out of Malaga fast enough. They take a cheap flight to the airport, hire a car and head for the Costa Del Sol. Cruise passengers hop off at the port, many on to a waiting tour bus, to take them on to Grenada.

Natalie Portman will no longer be eating cheesecake on Shavuot - because reading Jonathan Safran Foer's novel Eating Animals persuaded her to become a vegan.

The Oscar-winning actress is now planning a documentary, based on the book.

Jonathan Safran Foer told a French website: "Natalie Portman is going to make a movie of it. She wants to make a very personal documentary.

So here's the conundrum: a chance arises to grab a much needed mini-break but my husband and I have conflicting wish lists. My perfect tick-box break has to include stunning architecture, an abundance of history, perhaps a dash of Jewish culture, the rattle and hum of a vibrant city. He wants a sun lounger with back support, decent weather and a sea view.

Mmm.

Throughout my youth and childhood, I must have watched countless repeats of the Sound of Music.

Sun, sand, sea, Sangria. Lanzarote has them all in spades.

Hot on the heels of Slovakia's capital, Bratislavia, is the republic's second city Kosice; a city that is finally emerging from the shadows to be named Capital of Culture for 2013.

I packed my bags for Island life in Mallorca in May 2009 but I am not new to Spain - far from it. Marbella guided me from my 20s through to my 30s but I reached my seven-year itch and I had to move on.

A luxury villa in a beautiful secret location may not suit the adventurous globe-trotter. But if you hanker after - and can afford - an exclusive beauty spot with your own concierge and a private chef, a Hideaways Club villa could be an option. Less of a time-share, they say, than an investment.

My Sunday mornings aren't usually cliffhangers, unless I'm trying to remember the night before.

I'm more at home drinking strong coffee in my local greasy spoon.

But this particular day, with the wind whipping my hair, swaying above the deep azure sea, I am actually cliff-hanging. On the edge of a cliff in northern Jersey.

The telephone rang in my bedroom at the Bon Sol hotel. It was my travel companion. "I've just been to the gym" he informed me. "Now I am having breakfast at the beachside restaurant. Come quickly its gorgeous out here"

Doc Martin, has done for Port Isaac what Rick Stein has done for Padstow, well almost. Certainly, locals have seen more visitors on its steep winding streets since the cult TV series began. And what was once a harbour town too inaccessible for many has become a must-see on any visit to the area.

But is what they see on the small screen anything like the reality that is life in North Cornwall?

Can we talk about check-out? Check-in – oh yes, you'll read all sorts of stories about how long it took, messing up reservations, that sort of thing. But no one ever mentions check-out.

Not surprising, really. Who wants to remember leaving a wonderful hotel, or being stiffed with a bill which is always more than you imagined.

So let me change that.

It's part of the United Kingdom but going to Caerdydd, pronounced Cayer-deeth and known as Wales to the English - feels like you should have to show your passport.

Perhaps crossing the Severn Bridge does it; like leaving one land for another - crossing a boundary - and paying a toll for the privilege to do so.

In just over four weeks, around 90,000 Britons will congregate at one of the biggest events of the UK motoring year. Just like the film Le Mans starring Steve McQueen, there's little dialogue needed because the racing drama of iconic cars whizzing around the Circuit de la Sarthe with its long straights and high-speed sections through the S-bends, says it all.

As Count Rudi takes my hand and brushes it with the lightest of kisses, it's impossible not to feel just a little impressed as I switch down a gear and ease into my stay at the Marbella Club Hotel.

Think Normandy and two things normally come to mind: D-Day Beaches and the slightly soggy part of France you pass through on your way to warmer climes in the Dordogne or Provence.

Whilst the former is richly deserved and a good reason to explore the region, the latter proves nothing but our infatuation with avoiding "British" weather when we go abroad.

Spaghetti doesn't grow on trees, but if it did, it would be at the Gragnano pasta factory. There are piles of the stuff everywhere, fresh from the mixer, hung up to dry and heaped on trays ready to be packaged and plated.

The smell of pasta - of Italy really - is in the air as chef Antonino explains in broken English the process of making the country's signature dish.

There can't be many links between Turkey Twizzlers and a dream Grecian holiday. But here's one. When Jamie Oliver condemned the Twizzler for being unhealthy during his school dinners TV series, the negative publicity sent sales soaring.

I'd been on board all of 50 minutes - and there I was doing the conga: like an aunt at a wedding, hands on the hips in front and filing out through doors and rocking along corridors.

We were all at it; more than a hundred of us jigging our way out on to the open deck to grab a muster moment under the lifeboats. It was a drill of course, not some welcome aboard ritual.