If there is one thing that unites the great British public in misery it is packing. Truly, if there is a more stressful, more complicated, more mind-boggling domestic task I am yet to stumble upon it. I often think — while counting pairs of children’s socks and battling to get the too-big suitcase out through the too-small loft hatch — that I’d rather cancel the holiday altogether than face the hours (and I mean hours) it takes to get ready for a week of revelry in the sun. But much like putting up the Christmas tree (a fairly painful task) and reorganising the cereal cupboard (more painful than it sounds) you have to put in the hard work to reap the joy at the end.