Wish you were here ...

As you read this, I will be lying on a deckchair sunning myself in Santorini or ambling towards the Acropolis in Athens to take some touristy snaps of the Parthenon, or perhaps sipping on a tall, cool drink in a chilled pool somewhere.

I have no reason to tell you this except to make you insanely jealous as you sip your sugary coffee over breakfast.

Yes, it is holiday season and, gosh, am I glad! The preparation that goes into these two weeks is phenomenal.

For starters, you have to work twice as hard before and after your holiday to make your days off as stress-free as possible as, in all likelihood, there is nobody to cover you when you're away.

Have you answered all your e mails? Have you remembered to put your “out of office'' reply on? Have you remembered to get someone to water your plants and keep an eye on your stapler?

If you haven't, you can be sure you'll wake up in a cold sweat about it one night while you're trying to sleep, thousands of miles away from your office.

I am a total Brit when it comes to holidays; I get sunburnt, I take photos every step of the way (bothering all the locals as I go), I buy “hilarious'' souvenirs — such as pointy-toed slippers in Morocco, camel snow globes in Oman and “lucky'' gold waving cats in China (or at least I would if I had ever been to these places) — and I get caught up in the culture and end up thinking I can incorporate it into my life.

For instance, when I went on a holiday to Italy, I bought lots of infused olive oil and interesting-looking pasta and convinced myself I was going to become a great cook when I got back home.

Needless to say, they still sit in my depleted kitchen cupboards while I make toast for dinner most nights.

Or if I ever go to a place where I can shop in souqs for luxurious fabrics, where women dress beautifully, I always decide that I will add a more worldly aspect to my dress sense and end up buying metres of sumptuous fabric which then stays in my wardrobe back home as I slip into my jeans day after day.

Whenever I visit Europe, I get caught up in café culture and decide I need to spend more lazy days whiling away the hours in a backstreet coffee shop sipping on espresso and watching the world go by.

Trouble is, in Dubai, I would have to sit in a chain coffee shop in the middle of a mall, which somehow lacks the artsy European feel.

Another holiday habit I'm guilty of is good but unrealistic intentions. I have packed my yoga mat and running shoes to go to Greece.

I have visions of my getting up at 6am for an invigorating run before going for a breakfast of fresh fruit salad and Greek yoghurt and then embarking on a hike around some of the islands.

I imagine I will get back to Dubai and friends will comment on how well I look and that I have lost weight.

The reality is probably that I will spend two weeks gorging myself on feta cheese and have to book an extra seat on the flight to accommodate my cheese-enhanced behind.