I've never been one for activity holidays. Five hundred years ago anyone throwing themselves off towering structures with nothing more than a piece of elastic tied to an ankle would have been thrown in the sanatorium; and what's leisurely about cycling 7,000 kilometres in a week?

My last relationship was with a man seeking wife (I was girl seeking nightclubs). I knew matters had plundered new depths when he shouted at me, "Would you be up for going on a cycling holiday? Would you? Would you?" Which got me thinking... No, darling, I really wouldn't.

There is something slightly charming about Scooter Bella holidays. Travelling by Vespa through Puglia, Tuscany or Provence, you zip your way around white washed cliffs, stop by centuries-old farms, lunch in Chianti heartland, learn to cook in authentic Tuscan kitchens and sleep in Medieval convents.