Kayt Turner: 'My save-money-and-stay-at-home holiday is proving to be more expensive than envisaged'
That's not to say that I didn't spend an entire day whining and pleading for us to go somewhere. "Pleeeeease… we could just get a last-minute flight. Just think about it. In a few hours we could be lying by a pool with hot and cold running waiters. Doesn't that sound blissful?"
But Mr Turner's foot was well and truly put down. "No. We've spent enough money on a holiday that we're not going on without adding to it. It's the Costa Del Canonmills for us."
I moaned to a friend – moaned to a lot of people in fact – and her suggestion was that I just embrace it. "Lie on the couch, drink loads of wine and catch up with all those Midsomer Murders that you have on your Sky box. There are worse ways to spend a week."
So, glass of wine in hand and bottle close by, I settled myself on the couch. Except I couldn't really settle. It wasn't the Calvanist work ethic finally kicking in – I find it remarkably easy to do hee haw. No, the source of my discomfort was the bloody cushions. We'd talked for a while about replacing them, but just never got round to it.
Well, I had plenty of time on my hands now, didn't I? So the wine was put to one side and instead I went on a little trip to the upholsterers. And while I was there, it seemed ridiculous not to order the new covers we'd talked about. And, after a little discussion, why not make a start on that ottoman?
I felt very good after that. Almost virtuous. So I then set about a few other things on that list. Obviously, that involved a quick trip to Ikea for storage boxes – and tealights and Dime bars (nobody gets out of there without buying them, do they?). On the way back, I happened to pass by the bathroom showroom and – since it is another thing on the list – it seemed sensible to pop in and get some general info about replacing the bathroom.
I was getting through the list at a fair rate of knots. Maybe this staycation nonsense would prove to be quite productive.
I felt so pleased with myself that I reckoned I deserved a little treat. Now, you may well be under the impression that everyone who works for newspapers is almost constantly lunching – extensively and expensively. You couldn't be more wrong. In fact, we're generally lucky to grab a sandwich at our desks. So I met up with an old friend. There were pre and post prandial drinks.
There was wine – lots and lots of wine. There were mid-afternoon cocktails and early evening drinks. I couldn't swear to there ever actually being food, but my credit card bill testifies to there having been three courses and a cheese board.
I have to admit that my save-money-stay-at-home holiday is proving to be rather more expensive than Mr Turner had envisaged. I've just caught him looking on the easyJet website. He reckons it will be far, far cheaper for me to have my staycation somewhere else.