The morning starts slowly following the pile-on with Vicky and Zaza. We eat a good breakfast – porridge with crumbed granola followed by an omelette – play a couple of relaxed games of UNO (Vicky wins at last, so does Chef Jonny), and then get ready to head off.

Packing up my belongings I feel a wave of gratitude that we’ll be in a hotel the next time I’m ready to sleep, and that a nice bed will be awaiting me. I’ve slept in many places over the years, and camping has never been my favourite. Pia never cared where she slept; as long as we were together she was satisfied. One of our favourite places we visited was Jericoacoara in Brazil. ‘Jeri’ is unique thanks to the fact it’s built on sand, something the town has embraced, with hardly any of their shops and restaurants having traditional flooring. Instead sand has been allowed to do its thing and remain a key part of the brightly coloured town. This delighted Pia, who was in her element. As usual she was barefoot and ready to enjoy the feeling of having sand between her toes, so it pleased her that she was able to do so while we ate lunch.

After speaking to one of the locals about nearby hidden gems, they told us of a little bay they knew which was secluded and untouched by too many tourists. We set off first thing to make a whole day of some much-needed R&R time after being on our feet for weeks, and we were immediately glad we did. Walking along the white beaches, the clear waters washing over our feet, it felt heavenly.

‘Look at that!’ Pia said, ditching her rucksack, taking off her denim shorts and running into the sea in her black bikini before I had time to work out what she’d spotted.

Then I saw her destination, a white hammock swinging in the breeze between two driftwood logs. My own shorts came off just as quickly. I ran across the shallow warm sea, seeing if I could beat her there.

‘Hey!’ I could hear Pia shout over the splashing of the water as she picked up her pace and tried to fight me off. ‘Don’t you be getting any funny ideas. It’s mine.’

But I’m a faster runner with longer legs, so even her head start couldn’t get her there before me. I pulled apart the netting and quickly climbed in. When she arrived I had my arms raised with my hands resting under my head, like a male model or Baywatch lifeguard striking a pose. Looking back I know I would’ve looked extremely smug.

‘That wasn’t fair,’ she said two seconds later, slightly out of puff.