You Want: Speedy boarding, allowing you to whizz through to your airplane seat without queuing for half an hour.
You’d Settle for: Priority boarding, allowing you just a brief few moments of queuing before whizzing through to your airplane seat.
You Get: ‘Priority boarding’, in which you are abandoned for half an hour and made to balance in a crush on the staircase leading down to the Tarmac, while those who refused to pay the extra £12 remain smugly seated in the terminal.
You Want: To spend your holiday reading Marcel Proust’s A La Recherche du Temps Perdu.
You Get: Woken up every morning at 5.30 by one child complaining about the other, followed by a day on the rocky beach in the pouring rain sitting beside notices in bright red capitals saying CAUTION! DANGEROUS TIDES! and DANGER! POISONOUS JELLYFISH
You’d Settle For: Getting halfway through the last novel but one by Joanna Trollope.
You Get: 47 pages into a misery memoir by the fat lady off Made In Essex before accidentally dropping it into the bidet.
You Want: To discover the perfect little family-run seafront restaurant where you will be greeted as a long-lost friend by the maitre d’ and served delicious food and fine wines for a fraction of the price you’d pay in the UK.
You’d Settle for: A moderately overpriced meal in a chain hotel which would probably have had a sea view 25 years ago, before they built the multi-storey car park in front of it.
You Get: A takeaway Big Mac, which you have to eat on a bench in the main square in the drizzle because every chair inside is already taken.
You Want: To wake up to endless days of fun and laughter spent frolicking on the sunny beach with your children.
You’d Settle For: Waking up any time after 7.30am, the sun occasionally managing to break through the clouds, while from time to time your children stop hitting each other and shouting: ‘But she started it!’
You Get: Woken up every morning at 5.30 by one child complaining about the other, followed by a day on the rocky beach in the pouring rain sitting beside notices in bright red capitals saying CAUTION! DANGEROUS TIDES! and DANGER! POISONOUS JELLYFISH!
You Want: A lovely villa with a swimming pool and a lavish terrace overlooking a magnificent view of rolling hills.
You’d Settle For: A first- floor apartment with a shared plunge-pool and a view of terracotta roofs.
You Get: A basement flat with no air-conditioning, a view of the bins, a cooker that doesn’t work, a sofa bed that doesn’t pull out, and an electric insect-exterminator that wakes you up with a loud ZZZAP! every five minutes, accompanied by the smell of singed fly.
You want: To come out of the sea looking like Daniel Craig in Casino Royale.
You’d settle for: Coming out of the sea looking like Rob Brydon in Swimming With Men.
You Get: To look like Terry Scott coming out of the sea in Carry On At Your Convenience.
You want: To come out of the water looking like Ursula Andress in Dr No.
You’d settle for: Coming out of the water looking like Scarlett Moffatt in I’m a Celebrity . . . Get Me Out Of Here!
You get: To come out of the water looking like Christopher Biggins as Widow Twankey in Aladdin-on-Ice.
You want: A full English breakfast. You’d Settle for: A nice cup of tea and a croissant. You get: Raw octopus, served in a wrap with chilli sauce
You want: A full English breakfast.
You’d Settle for: A nice cup of tea and a croissant.
You get: Raw octopus, served in a wrap with chilli sauce.
You want: To go home with a beautiful piece of island art, handcrafted by a local artist known only to a select few.
You’d settle for: A milk jug with the name of the island in fancy lettering.
You get: A novelty bra-and- panties apron from the gift shop at the airport.
You want: To be greeted as an old friend by the locals.
You’d settle for: Being ignored by locals.
You get: Twelve locals an hour approaching you saying: ‘How are you my friend, you wanna come on sunset cruise, very beautiful, how about it, my friend, you pay me now, why you no pay, eh?’
You want: Peace and quiet.
You’d settle for: Quiet.
You get: Woken at 3.15am by a dozen revellers singing O Sole Mio in the corridor outside and a woman shouting: ‘Oi! Gary! Open the door! I said open the offing door or I’ll offing knock it down!’