I would like to dive in Vietnam and Cambodia.

Weekends are about replenishment and rejuvenation. Time in Wales would definitely be part of my ideal weekend, at my own hotel, set in 72 acres of absolute gorgeousness. I can already feel the air working its magic, with the sea breeze drifting over us.

We get the papers: I prefer broadsheets because I had the fear of God put into me by the tabloids and, though I'm very much over it, I still don't really like to read them. It's a destructive vernacular that makes me angry and scared, and it is all sensationalist onomatopoeia and alliteration.

I don't even like sitting in a taxi or on the tube when I've got a nicely ironed shirt on - I can feel the creases starting. I was taught to iron in the children's home I lived in - along with mopping, sweeping, and washing up. If you iron a shirt in order - collar, cuffs, yoke, sleeves and then body - it comes out all neat and gorgeous.

I had a lot of fun in Cambodia, much more so in Cambodia than Vietnam.

I always felt more emotionally attached to Cambodia than I did to Vietnam.