
My dream holiday involves room service, an infinity pool and thousand-thread-count sheets.
In this dream, the only time I exert myself is to move between a lounge beside the pool to the pool and back again, and perhaps to pick up a cocktail.
If I have ever been described as "high maintenance", it's only because I like to purchase a coffee from both of the cafés within a one-block radius of my CBD apartment every morning (look, they both have something different to offer, and actually, I don't have to defend myself for my unwavering support of local small businesses!).
Watch: The unspoken rules of modern travel — from plane seat battles to hotel etiquette. Post continues below.
I am, in short, a fan of creature comfort.
Which is why I didn't particularly expect to find myself feeding pigs on a farm half an hour past Mudgee and calling it a "holiday".
I really didn't expect that it would be the best holiday I've been on in a long time.