A Rose-tinted Blue Grotto

When it comes to holidays, are you a list-maker or a risk-taker? I must confess that I to belong to the first category, preferring to meticulously research and plan every detail of my trip in advance, rather than fly by the seat of my pants! Having said that, I do take risks, it's just that they are calculated ones. In the last ten years, I have flown in a glider, a two-seater biplane, a hot air balloon; I have parascended above the ocean, swam in the Atlantic, the Aegean, the Adriatic and the Mediterranean, and run aground in the River Severn ... but let's move on quickly from that one.

To me, the anticipation of the holiday is as rewarding as the reality, often more so. Before setting out, I have walked past my hotel, courtesy of Google Earth, found the best restaurants and excursions via Tripadvisor, tracked weather systems across Europe through Ventusky, and monitored exchange rates in an attempt to buy my Euros at the best time.

I think it must be in the genes, as memories of childhood holidays are bound up with my father's

love of planning. Here are some excerpts from a piece I wrote, some years ago:

How accurate are those rose-tinted memories of holidays long past? That is a question lost in the mists of time, but on a holiday in Sorrento ten years ago, our party was disappointed that the sea conditions did not support a visit to the Blue Grotto on Capri. The tour guides words still hold true.

"Buy a postcard," he said, "and look at it everyday for a week. In ten years time, you will be convinced that you actually visited the place.

This is not a postcard, but a photograph I took in Malta. I never made it to the Blue Grotto in Capri, and was thwarted in attempt to visit another Blue Grotto, this time in Biševo, Croatia. Finally, on a visit to Wied iz-Zurrieq, Malta, a local fisherman took us out to their Blue Grotto in his small boat. On the short journey around the headland, he shared his orange, freshly picked that morning, with us. When we arrived at the cave, it was unspoilt, peaceful and breathtakingly beautiful.

Like the slot machines on Llandudno Pier in 1958, sometimes it is the most simple of pleasures that are the best.