I’ve spent the afternoon on a sun lounger in Spain next to a former prime minister and jumped into Sydney Harbour after lunch in the garden of a future one, and I’d say that like all holidays, the people you are with matter much more than the location, however impressive. I once ended up with an invitation to the private country house of the Vice-President of Colombia, where the salt-crust beef was served on a bed of rose petals, and that was definitely memorable — but the next day we headed off in a beaten up old school minibus we’d borrowed, to drink rum in a local bar, and that was pretty good too.