Sometimes the incongruous and the unexpected provide the happiest of marriages. As with Christmas in July, so with Switzerland in high summer.
There is still, for romantics, a bit of snow, right up at the top of the mountains. But everywhere else is like something from a child's colouring book: the greenest of green trees, the bluest of blue lakes and skies.
Commonly held wisdom says that if you see Chinese people eating in a Chinese restaurant, it must be a fine establishment. But does this apply to holidays?
There were a large number of Greek tourists holidaying in the South Pelopennese when I was there, something I did, indeed, take as a sign of its quality as a destination.
But then it occurred to me that resorts such as Margate and Blackpool are full of Brits in the summer and, wonderful as they are, I'm not sure that the glut of indigenous tourists quite qualifies them as top-notch holiday spots. I had two weeks to find out.
Love is one thing, and passion quite another. And when both are present, life can seem like a honeymoon. Alas, it's inevitable that the time will come in a couple's relationship when passions wane and the dimming embers need to be fanned into life. I suggest you find somewhere romantic to do this and I believe that I found the perfect place.
Seduced by the ancient cult history of godly love of Cyprus, we flew to Lanarka airport. From there, we taxied to Pissouri about an hour away - a peaceful but burgeoning hill-top village perched half way between Limassol (Lemesos) and Paphos.
One of the more unusual facts I learnt during my Danube waterways cruise was told to me in Budapest. As we passed the University, our guide, Cathy, pointed out that Ernõ Rubik, who invented the Rubik's Cube in 1974 originally to teach three-dimensional applications to his architectural students, is an occasional lecturer there. Ernõ was born in 1944 while his Jewish parents were in hiding from the Nazis.
Is there anywhere in England more beautiful than the Cotswolds? And is there anywhere more Cotswoldish than Chipping Campden? Its very name has an irresistibly bucolic ring, evoking images of milkmaids and swains, village greens, and pubs serving foaming tankards of ale. And, while it can be relished for its own sake, Chipping Campden is encircled by such radiant villages as Broadway, Moreton-in-Marsh, Stow-on-the-Wold and Shipston-on-Stour, not to mention such splendid, historic towns as Evesham, Cheltenham and Stratford-on-Avon.
You would have little inkling of Hungary's turbulent history from its elegant, unhurried capital, Budapest, which bears a striking resemblance to Paris in the layout of its wide boulevards and Empire architecture, much ofit adorned with exuberant stone decoration.
Until the Chain Bridge was built in 1849, Pest was linked to historic Buda by ferry. When the unified city emerged as the capital in 1872, Jews were an integral part of it, having arrived during the Roman period, and forming a quarter of Budapest's population by 1939.
Sibling rivalry can be a painful business. One moment you are the focus of family attention: pretty, petite, gorgeously turned out and perpetually seen in all the most chi-chi spots. Then along comes a younger sister, more beautiful, better attired and with other enviable assets.
It was a warm, sunlit day in the cathedral city of Reims, France's Coronation City, in the Marne region of Champagne Ardenne. But inside it was a cool 10 degrees with 85 per cent humidity, the lights were dim, Je t'aime - the song Radio 1 banned for being too sexy, remember? - was playing. Above me were a bas relief of frolicking naked cherubs, and at the bottom of the stairs was Silus, a Frenchman, waiting to take me into a room full of guitar-playing finches.