We were only going away for five days, but I was worried about the suspension.

The car seemed to labour under the weight of the holdalls packed with everything I considered vital for the trip.

Clothes, toiletries, food, toys - no wonder I couldn't see out of the rear view mirror. It was pathetic, really, the sight of it all. It wasn't as if we were crossing the Kalahari, simply spending a few days with relatives in Norfolk.

Taking food was just plain stupid - but I really did worry about the availability of Sooty pasta shapes and Thomas the Tank Engine yoghurt in the wilds of East Anglia.

The British are hopeless at travelling light. We fret at the thought of not being able to replicate exactly the products we buy at the local supermarket and cram our suitcases with Tetley Tea Bags, Heinz Baked Beans, Kellogg's Cornflakes ... and that's just for a weekend trip to Scarborough. Going further afield, across the Channel, we arm ourselves with specially-made travel accessories - adapter plugs, small electric elements for heating water (for a cuppa, of course), mini irons, little hair dryers - the list is endless.

And if we're heading for completely alien climes, we raid the local chemists' and lug around an entire medicine cabinet - malaria tablets, antibiotics, rehydration salts, insect repellent - plus surgical dressings, tweezers and safety pins.

The year 2000 is approaching, yet we still can't grasp the fact that things like toilet roll and shampoo have reached other parts of the world.

Away from the comforts of home, we don't trust anything to providence. My local supermarket has an entire section devoted to travel accessories.

Not just travel sickness pills and neck pillows, but items like inflatable clothes hangers (surely we can handle a few creases for a week or two?), toilet seat covers (what's wrong with crouching above the seat?), manicure sets (mustn't neglect our nails while we're away) and soft-grip handles for suitcases (we really are a namby-pamby lot).

Even backpackers are becoming less inclined to rough it, and carry the sort of loads I reserve for the car roof rack. I spotted one chap in Leeds station with a TV aerial sticking out of his rucksack.

We watch travel shows like Lonely Planet from our armchairs and ponder for a moment the delights of Peru. Then we lurch back to our senses - Macchupicchu is nice enough, but does it have Sainsbury's?

People only pack what they believe are essentials - yet we're so accustomed to a certain standard of living that everything short of the lawn mower comes with us.

Even mountaineers scaling Everest take so much stuff they end up dumping most of it - I hear the summit is awash with empty Gold Blend jars, Jaffa Cakes boxes and sachets of Wash & Go...

We made it to Norfolk - and within minutes of arriving I was queuing at the supermarket, stockpiling the dozen or so items (including double-thickness, quilted toilet roll) that I forgot to pack.

Converted for the new archive on 30 June 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.