This year we holidayed ‘staycationer’ style in Cornwall. Rock, to be precise, where the large gull wing houses remain unsold amongst the debris of the banking crisis. This being peak season we thought that it would be a good idea to organise an online shop to coincide with our arrival. The only online store that delivers locally is Tesco.com. Admittedly the night before leaving London probably wasn’t the best time to visit Tesco.com, there being a myriad of items that needed to be packed carefully into our Volvo jalopy to ensure fun could be had by all regardless of the weather.

To be brutally frank we don’t normally shop normally at Tesco, our location in Battersea means that we’re in a black-spot, out of their reach. However, I had used the site many years ago when I was a bachelor. How difficult could it be? I logged in and happily clicked immediately to the grocery section, omitting to read any of the notifications on the home page (in the same manner as most men disregard all technical documentation supplied). This was my first big error, having spent just under an hour faithfully adding products to the basket I decided to proceed to the checkout to pay. I needed to book a delivery slot though, the address shown for the delivery was wrong as it displayed my bachelor pad. ‘There must be a simple way to change this’ I thought optimistically. No such luck, going into my profile and adding the new address meant that the entire contents of my basket were lost. My wife looked bereft and began muttering about the benefits of shopping local. So, we tried again, spending another 40 minutes dutifully adding products to the basket, ‘all done’ I chirruped to my harassed wife packing in the hallway. My good luck ran out when I tried to book a delivery slot, not only were they all gone for the day that we were to arrive but there were none to be had for three days either side. Biting my lip I explained the situation to my incredulous wife, who swore that she would never, ever use Tesco.com again.

I managed to get some small revenge in the local Tesco in Wadebridge where the staff were dressed in beach outfits for the day whilst the rain lashed down outside. The lady at the till looked at me when I rolled up with my trolley full of exotic goodies and asked if I would like help packing it? ‘Yes please’ , I smirked as she muttered under her breath about shandy drinking Londoners whilst I chatted merrily on my phone…