Sitting on the beach, the sea breeze blowing through my hair and my toes brushing against the sand, I felt at peace as I watched the sunset. But I wasn’t taking in this tranquil moment in Ibiza with John, 64, my partner of 30 years. I was here all alone, and enjoying it all the more.
I caught the travel bug on a school tour of Italy aged 13. It was 1983 and my first time abroad, and everything seemed exciting compared to Britain – the delicious food, stunning buildings and friendly locals. After that, I enjoyed several foreign holidays with family and then friends in my 20s, and when I met John in 1995, aged 25, we enjoyed travelling to France, Norway, Denmark and Holland together.
But it was…
