We'd found what looked like the perfect little bolthole for the weekend. It was miles from anywhere, ridiculously cheap and looked gorgeous in the photos. There was just one snag..., We don't normally spend much on hotels, but this was a special occasion, so we decided to push the boat out. The moment we walked into our room, however..., Everyone had told us this was the cream of the crop - the one place we absolutely had to visit. We'd even booked three months in advance. But within ten minutes of arriving..., I'd always knocked package holidays and couldn't understand why anyone would choose one. Then a friend persuaded me to go on one with her, and on the second day..., I'd been incredibly quick off the mark and managed to snag the last two tickets for an event that had sold out in minutes. I was feeling very pleased with myself until..., When the doors finally opened, the place was a sight to behold. Every wall was plastered with photographs, there were people everywhere and an enormous crowd had gathered around something in the middle of the room. We pushed our way closer and..., I hadn't been back to one of my old haunts for nearly twenty years. In my head, it hadn't changed at all. But as I turned the corner..., A friend had warned me that the town was a complete cultural wasteland and that we'd be bored within 24 hours. At first, I thought she might have a point. Then, on our second evening..., Everything had been organised perfectly. The venue was beautiful, the food had arrived, the guests were there and for once nobody was running late. Then we discovered that someone had dropped the ball rather spectacularly.., It was supposed to be a quiet meal and an early night. Somehow, though, it turned into a complete blowout. By midnight we'd eaten far too much, several people were decidedly squiffy, and then someone had the bright idea to...

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