Evidence that not everyone thinks of holiday souvenirs in the same way

The main legacy from our two summer weeks in Whitby, Yorkshire, appears to be that we have swapped to a different make of toilet roll.

It doesn't have the romanticism of the usual souvenir, I know: the photos of surfers, the sand sculpture, or the arrangement of shells in a picture frame, or a fisherman ornament.

We've been faithful to Andrex toilet rolls ever since we married. In fact, 37 years on, I think Andrex should have sent us a thank you letter or at least a card. Alas, we have received nothing, not even a free two-pack. This is despite the fact that, having brought up a family of three, we've provided employment for at least a hundred puppies.

We've stuck with Andrex through 2 ply and 3 ply, literally through thin and thick, and through different patterns and perforations over the years. You'd think it would count for something, like war service, or a lifetime career in the NHS. But, no.

Then, in August, in the bathroom of our holiday apartment in Whitby, we found a surprisingly generous supply of Cushelle toilet roll, a make we hadn't heard of.

Well.

I won't go into detail. Let's just say that the spouse and I had barely been in the apartment for an hour before we'd both commented on the quality of the toilet roll.

'The kitchen's well-equipped, isn't it, Fran?'

'Yes, I agree.'

'And there's a super view over the river and the steam railway.'

'There is.'

'And the towels feel new - they're thick and comfy.'

'Yes.'

'And I love the big clock and all the books and games.'

'Me, too.'

'But the toilet roll! My, my!'

'I know, right?!'

Oh, sceptics among you, thinking we can't seriously have been that excited about the toilet roll. But when it's as soft as clouds ....

or candy floss ...

... it's worth getting excited about.


When we ordered our shopping on our return from holiday, we made sure to click 'Cushelle' instead of 'Andrex' and, although it felt like a betrayal, all I had to do was think, 'Well, have they phoned? Have they emailed me with a Faithful Customer Award? No.'

Now I realise, after a visit to my son's house recently, that he and his wife have been buying Cushelle all along and this feels like another betrayal. Yes, they love us and they make us cakes and invite us round for delicious roast dinners, and they've gifted us two scrumptious grandchildren, but have they ever considered how much happier we'd have been with Cushelle? No. Have they ever said, 'You know the Andrex you have in the bathroom? Allow us to transform your lives immediately.' No. They've left us in ignorance all this time and you need a lot of plates of roast pork belly and apple sauce to make up for that kind of negligence.

I'm delighted with our Whitby holiday legacy, though. It's almost as good as what I brought back from Lyme Regis last year and in some ways not unrelated. I came back with a loss of five pounds in weight because we'd both had a tummy bug for the whole week we were there. That weight loss made up for seven days of walking past fish and chip shops and ice cream parlours feeling nauseous and only wanting a plain baked potato at the most.

We'll need to go back to Lyme Regis at some point and experience it minus the diarrhoea and vomiting, because, to be fair, it's not what you'd call a holiday upgrade, but I was really pleased with that bonus weight loss, just as I am with our dramatic Pauline conversion from Andrex to Cushelle.

We could probably go back to Whitby again, too, and, this time, enjoy the beaches and the sea views more without having our heads full of toilet roll awe and wonder.