A nice relaxing holiday? Not for Clan MacLeod!

“I’m sorry sir but you only paid for one piece of luggage so you’ll have to pay extra.”

“Na, na, na, na – you’ve made a mistake. I definitely paid for two.” “I’m sorry sir you didn’t!” “I’M TELLINGYOU, I HAVE!” “And I’M telling you, you haven’t!”

“LISTENYA NUMPTY, I’VE PAID FOR TWO BAGS AND I’M NOT PAYING EXTRA – SO SORT THIS OUT OR IWILL EXPLODE!”

Maybe that wasn’t the best thing to shout in an airport . . . even though it eventually turned out I had paid.

Then there was this outburst at the car rental company to my long-suffering wife: “What part of ‘all these bags will not fit in this excuse for a car’ do you not understand?”

Again, not great – especially when, after a struggle, the bags did fit. Not a great start to our hols.

Or how about this for a phone call . . .

“Hello is that reception? I’d like to report that the air con in my room is not working, a deck chair is broken and the safe is reading ‘ERR’ so I can’t get my money out.

“What do you mean ‘is it my room that the air con is not working in’? Who else’s room would I be talking about? The people’s across the street? Get a grip man!

“The chair? It’s one of the deck chairs out on the balcony. I sat on it and it ripped. No, it’s not a sun lounger, it’s a deck chair. The material has disintegrated. There are no loungers – comprende?

“Look it doesn’t matter what size I am, ya cheeky get! I nearly broke my back and got cut in two when I sat down!

“The safe? Yes, it says ERR and now it’s not opening. What? Surely you know what ERR means? It means error, so send someone round pronto to fix it!

“Okay, I’ll calm down. What’s my room number? It’s C522. Yes, I know you don’t have a 3522, I said C522. You know, C as in Cola. No! I don’t want room service. (deep breath) My room number is C-52-2. “NOOO! NOT C123. AAAAARGH!”

It took them two days to open the safe, a week for them to fix the chair and the air con never got fixed.

As for the rest of our family holiday, it had its usual enjoyable ups and ranting downs.

Even a pre-paid visit to the Spa for a de-stress massage had me bursting at the seams. They couldn’t find my booking and then tried to charge me again!

As you will have now have gathered a MacLeod holiday is anything but relaxing.

From arriving at the wrong hotel to setting out on the wrong day, I’ve done it all.

I’ve even arrived to find I haven’t booked in at a hotel at all!

Then there’s forgetting what car park I’ve booked my car into, or forgetting what car and what rental company I’ve booked from on arrival, and on my return forgetting where I parked my car before I left.

And don’t think you’re hard done by when your luggage goes astray. Just do what I do and take someone else’s instead, which you then have to personally return when you realise the error.

I’ve had bikes strewn across the road due to faulty luggage straps on the car, blockaded myself in a hotel room while a riot ensued outside, had to flee from an unexploded bomb, been airlifted to hospital after crashing a quad bike and landed in a balloon beside a pride of lions.

All this and more and it’s meant to be a holiday?

Still, thank the comedy gods who annually wind me up that no one from my wee clan has been seriously hurt – just my pride! And long may that continue. But is it to much to ask, given I work damn hard all year round, to one day get a stress free and relaxing break and that I don’t return looking like a pink whale that’s swallowed a beach ball and is about to burst?