Aitken seems the perfect kind of person for holidays such as this. ‘Call me easily pleased but, to my mind, there’s nothing like walking in a new town, with no plan other than to run an eye over the place.’ He likes his single bed: ‘I find the lack of options restful.’ And boy, can he write. Someone he meets in a pub is ‘a committed apostle of Malbec’. Contemplating the shared TV references that are vanishing in the age of YouTube, he says he ‘didn’t pursue the knowledge, it simply landed on me, like cultural shrapnel’. The pen portraits of his fellow holidaymakers are wonderful, all the more so because Aitken leaves you to draw your own conclusions. One man goes out of his way to boast that he has loved his wife ‘every minute since I met her. Not so much as a tea break.’ Later, Aitken notes how happy she looks when she’s away from him.