We have in the past extended our holidays by a day but always through no fault of our own.
In a particularly bad run of luck in 2012 we were marched out of the departure lounge at Tenerife South Airport and into a hotel overlooking an all-night karaoke bar in Playa de las Americas after the rubber band snapped on the plane’s propeller.
The subsequent footage (shot by me) appeared on YouTube and later BBC’s Watchdog TV programme and everybody on our flight eventually got paid out.
Then a few months later there was the unfortunate incident at Larnaca International Airport in Cyprus when Monarch Airlines thought it was okay to deny us boarding and give scores of angry delayed holidaymakers the plane we’d already checked onto so they could fly home instead of us.
The subsequent footage (shot by me) appeared on YouTube and later BBC’s Watchdog TV programme and everybody on our flight eventually got paid out. We built a new porch on the front of our house with what we got.
And to complete the hat-trick that year easyJet decided they didn’t need any crew to fly the plane parked at Berlin’s Schoenfeld Airport and left us all sitting there until the pilot and his mates turned up hours later.
But this time, more than any other time, we’re planning to extend our holiday by one day through choice.
There’s this music/surfing festival in Cornwall while we’re down there in August. And daughter #1’s favourite band Bastille are playing at it on the Sunday night.
Nothing’s ever that easy though, is it? They’re due to play at this festival the day after we drive the length of England back home.
Why is it that every time daughters want something they ask dad and not mum? Don’t answer that, I’ve just worked it out for myself.
So it looks like me, the boss and daughters #1 and #2 will be rubbing shoulders with a load of pale skinned Trustafarians with dreadlocks who live with mummy and daddy in a six-bedroomed house in the Home Counties and have a bigger personal budget than Lancaster City Council.
Still, if they’ve been surfing in the sea all day at least they’ll be clean and won’t stink like a week-old corpse – and on day four of a music festival that’s as much as anyone can hope for.