The Midults’ guide to…

Holiday packing

A JUST-IN-CASE DRESS

Because there might be a thing. Or a super yacht. Or a party. Or a Greek shipping billionaire. But when such an event arises, you remember you couldn’t be bothered to pack any heels to go with the just-in-case dress. So you slide around dwarfishly, looking peculiar. Until you change into a kaftan. Speaking of which…

EVERY KAFTAN YOU’VE EVER OWNED

But you only wear one, which gets grubbier and grubbier. (You tell yourself the schmutz is that wonderful summer blend of sun cream and salt. It isn’t.) This is because you are scared of ironing and post-holiday laundry blues.

TEN THOUSAND ADAPTERS

As if you are planning to adapt the whole country. But never one of those universal adapter horrors. You absolutely do not trust them. You feel they might be slightly evil. But you need an adapter for every piece of kit/tech/hair tool. And at least two spares for when annoying people want to annoyingly borrow. And a couple more, just in case. Look at you. So adaptable.

FULL GYM KIT

Not just loose clothes in case there is ‘sunset yoga’. Not just a pair of goggles for your dawn ‘power swim’. Oh no. Compression leggings and a sports bra and a breathable running top and, ‘Oh good, the terrain is hilly, so just think of what that will do to my heart rate as I burn through the calories, burn through the fat and just… burn.’ Except the only person you are kidding is yourself. So sad.

EYE MASK/EAR PLUGS/PORTABLE BLACKOUT BLINDS

Foreign light and sounds? Not going to happen. You will not risk a backfiring Vespa or an orchestra of crickets. And you can put up a portable blackout blind faster than that guy in The A-team who spent most of his life in institutions.

ONE BIKINI THAT IS SKIMPIER AND LOVE ISLAND-IER THAN THE REST

Just in case you decide you can be that person. When the base tan has bedded in and the self-consciousness has dissolved in pink wine and Aperol. Oh hello, slashed-to-the-navel one-piece. Hola, string bikini. Bonjour, toplessness. Not really. Well, probably not. Woo-hoo.

EYE DROPS

Because sun cream always migrates into your eyeballs. And then you get pink-eye, and blink and blink like a myopic bunny. Also, it only takes a couple of sundowners for you to resemble Lord Voldemort. You tell yourself the eye drops will fool everyone. Yes, that’s what you tell yourself.

A PILLOW

One of the advantages of your, erm, wealth of experience is the fact that you know your pillow (John Lewis Canadian goose down in a high thread count) is the best pillow for you. No Airbnb/ fancy villa/hip finca is going to have one like it. Do you want a crooked neck all holiday as you lie back on those pretend pillows that are really just slabs of cement? Non.

THREE TIMES AS MANY PANTS AS THERE ARE DAYS

There you are, packing conservatively, just two sundresses and a swimsuit, thanks (LIES). And then you get to knickers. And you count out the days. And then you pack two pairs for each day because, well, bunker mentality. And you still think it might not be enough, so you put a couple in your hand luggage as well.

INTERDENTAL STICKS

Floss is for rookies. All that saucisson and jamón and cavolo nero. And the octopus. And the pesto. Sorry, floss, but you just aren’t European enough.

PLASTIC BAGS

Finally you find use for the scores of ‘bags for life’ that are currently residing in the boot of your car. This is their moment. Bag to wrap the sun cream in. Bag to wrap all the other lotions and potions and the toothpaste. Bag for the hairspray that always explodes. Bag for laundry. Bag for wet swimsuits. Bag for wet towels. For a brief moment you feel like an eco-warrior. And then you get on a plane. themidult.com

Hola, string bikini. Bonjour, toplessness. Not really. Well, probably not