Going on holiday should be a happy and joyous occasion akin to the first signs of spring, or the realisation that, thank the Lord, for the first time in living memory it's going to be sunny throughout a bank holiday weekend. However, in my experience setting off on the outward journey is a particularly stressful and bloating experience. Why is it that a day or so before the big day arrives at least one member of the household decides to do a full week's worth of shopping at Sainsbury's "just in case we run short between now and then"? That, I believe, is another phenomenon that only the good Lord can be answerable for, and in the likelihood of not receiving a reply any time in the near future it's probably best to grin and bear it.

So now the situation's been accepted as a fait accompli, we must turn to what we can do about it. Here's the fix in full: millions of Britons across the land wake up on the morning of their holiday to be confronted by a full fridge and an over-flowing fruit basket. Inevitably, milk is a major inconvenience, and results in each family member drinking a week's quota in the space of half an hour. Eggs are another - scrambled on toast for all will solve that one - but these are simple problems to solve, and hardly an issue at all. The real trouble comes in the form of cheese. What's to be done about that near-finished piece of Stilton found rotting at the back of the relevant fridge compartment? Of course, the sensible thing would be to throw it away, but it was a nice bit of cheese, and it would be a shame to waste it, well perhaps I could manage a little bit…

Then we come to fruit. This is the real thorn in my side, for once fruit is reached there's absolutely no room left. The fridge has been devoured, as has the last remnants of a long-forgotten cereal packet (which was probably already well past its sell-by date, but waste not want not), and the remaining ripe (and ripening) tomatoes in the greenhouse. This means bringing the whole bloody basket in the car with you, which is fine for apples, and even pears…but certainly not for bananas.

Bananas, to me, are a conundrum. Sure, they taste OK - especially in milkshake form - and they're healthy, which shouldn't be knocked, and especially good as a quick energy boost before a run, say, or a game of tennis, as they don't sit on the stomach. But in the confined space of a car, they're my worst nightmare: I find the smell is unbearable. Then there's the issue of the skin. Not being someone inclined to littering (it might be biodegradable, but the compost heap's the place for that, not the A12) it has to remain in situ, and results in a lingering whiff that's hard to dispel, even with windows wound down to the max.

The crux of all this is that by the time of arrival at the airport everyone's waddling like a duck. But every cloud: this could actually solve Britain's obesity problem. Enforcing a household-wide diet in the lead-up to a vacation - I say diet, but I mean ban on food - will ensure the last crumb is devoured hours before departure, saving the aforementioned wearisome routine. The NHS will thank you for it.