Two weeks with nowhere to go. On the one hand, it sounded sad. When you’ve booked a fortnight off work, it feels almost obligatory these days to go and explore some far-flung foreign outpost or at least to head somewhere with a sunlounger. At the very least, a drive to Cornwall.

But not for us this year. A long overdue bathroom makeover has left our savings bruised and when we thought about it, two weeks exploring closer to home sounded rather fun.

As it turned out, it has been one of the best holidays we’ve had. It all started with a list. Since the start of the year, every time we’ve driven past something or thought ‘I’d like to go there one day’, we’ve added it to the list.

Day one started with a walk in beautiful countryside finishing with lunch at a pub near Tonbridge recommended to us by friends. Day two, we headed off to a National Trust park we’d never visited before and ended up dining at a place we hadn’t been to for years, for reasons neither of us could fathom.

A day of glorious sunshine prompted us to create a holiday at home by heading to the gym for a swim first thing, then breakfast on the terrace and then lying around the outdoor pool all day reading and sunbathing.

We enjoyed it so much we did it again the next day. We’ve also jumped on a train to Broadstairs, taken in a food fair, been to Tankerton twice, went to our goddaughter’s birthday party (glitter tattoos obligatory), went to the FA Cup final, bagged tickets for a recording of Jools Holland’s show, went to our local pub’s mid-week quiz (we’re usually too tired) with my (grown-up) niece and nephew and, as I write this, we still have three days to go.

A ferry trip, a night at a pizza and cocktail bar and maybe a trip to a stately home are still on the cards.

I even managed to defrost the freezer, although cleaning the oven is still on the list and likely to remain so.

One of the best things has been to enjoy some evening walks from home, making the most of the glorious countryside on our doorstep, but also waking up without an alarm and no fixed agenda, starting each morning wondering where the day will take us.

All that and no hassle of packing, travelling and piles of washing when you come back.

Home is where the heart is and we’ve fallen in love with it all over again.

As we strolled past the beach huts at Whitstable we spotted one woman in a beautifully painted cabin, a dog at her feet as she sat at a tiny desk, tapping away on her laptop.

She may have been writing her next novel or been doing her accounts, I don’t know, but it was clearly a better place than a stuffy office.

Inspired by her example, this week’s column comes from Tankerton beach, just a few short steps from the sea.

Do you think instead of returning to my desk this week my boss will let me carry on working from my camping chair in the sunshine?