Suffering is the new relaxing. Or so I'm starting to believe. I'm sure luxuriating in Sybaritic decadence in a Thai spa while handmaidens massage you with milk and honey works for some people, but not me. Whenever I attempt to do nothing on holiday, I am struck by acute insomnia and a nagging unease that I should be doing something - anything - else.
And it seems I am not alone. A friend who spent a summer working in a Cuban farming co-operative declared it was one of the best experiences of his life, while a colleague's eyes still light up when she remembers her Egyptian holiday spent picking up litter left by other tourists on the banks of the Nile as part of a 'clean-up' tour organised by Explore Worldwide.
The phenomenal success of charity challenge holidays - which usually involve cycling huge distances in the tropics and sleeping on the floors of church halls - confirms to me that there are plenty of people prepared to pay good money in return for a dose of pain and discomfort. But why?
Having recently spent a weekend camping in a reindeer herder's tent in sub-Arctic Lapland, I feel I can begin to answer this question. I travelled with a group of journalists to try out a new tour designed to give a taste of how the Sami people live. We spent 10 hours a day on a snowmobile, dined on reindeer intestines, slept under the stars and made do without loos and hot water. I don't think any of us were prepared for just how 'authentic' an experience it would be. Though much whingeing was done over the three days, the atmosphere on the last night was one of euphoria.
We were cold and tired but we had survived and it was an incredibly bonding and uplifting experience.
At this point it seems only right to make a distinction between good and bad suffering. In the first category are holidays which force you out of your comfort zone, but bring a reward you'd never experience if you stayed on your sofa - a real sense of achievement.
In the second category are airport delays, Fawlty Towers-style hotels, pushy tour reps, poor service and bad food. While I am prepared to spend a sleepless night shivering in a Sami tepee in return for a glimpse of the Northern Lights, there is nothing life-enhancing about spending a night with a pair of woolly tights wrapped around my head in Cornwall because the owners of the holiday cottage consider that one radiator is sufficient to heat a three-bedroom house.
Our column last week about complacency in the British tourism industry touched a nerve, encouraging readers to write in with their UK holiday horror stories. If you've got complaints, or praise, about your experiences travelling around Britain, we'd love to hear from you. You can sound off online at Guardian Unlimited's travel talkboards or email escape@observer.co.uk.
