One…Your favourite barista knows exactly what you drink, you go in there so often. For me, it’s either a small, black Americano or a medium one with an extra shot of hot water. Or, occasionally a small hot chocolate. My local barista always seems to be able to read my mood and guess!

Two… You’ll make a detour to go to your favourite coffee shop. Often, when I need a couple of items from the supermarket, instead of walking to the nearest ten minutes away, I’ll march a whole half-an-hour into town just so that I can get my coffee shop fix!

Three… You rate places by the standard of their coffee. Museums, garden centres, airports, department stores… Their actual purpose as a building is secondary to your caffeine needs!

Four… You have a top table in your head of your favourite cafes for certain hot drinks. My current one – for hot chocolate? Marks & Spencer first, followed closely by Le Depart cafe in St Michel, Paris (I visited last week!), then Waitrose and finally Starbucks.

Five… You suffer the classic coffee-addict’s weekend migraine. Supping your Americanos or Lattes from seven am each day, when you are up and out to work, you body starts to suffer from withdrawal when you have a lie-in on a Saturday and deny it that first early caffeine hit.

Six… Even if you are staying in the coffee shop, you order your drink in a take-away cup because it stays hotter for longer and delays that sad moment when your caffeine is all gone.

Seven… You don’t one hundred per cent trust anyone who doesn’t drink coffee. Tea? That’s a bit namby pamby

And, just for me,  I think I ought to add on eight… You write a novel about your favourite drink! The New Beginnings Coffee Club is set in a lovely village cafe, run by a rather gorgeous, enigmatic barista called Noah.

It’s a must-read for caffeine fans!

I can’t believe that at the grand old age of, ahem, 21 *innocent face* I have just spent my first weekend ever in a spa. Wow. Again please. I’d put that experience on repeat, if the universe allowed me. I haven’t felt so relaxed in months.

We bought a package which included a night in the hotel, dinner and breakfast,  two treatments, plus unlimited use of the pool. After a great meal and chat on the Friday night, I eventually rolled into bed around 1am – after some fun with the pillows that we wanted to take home (sadly, they were too big to smuggle into my overnight bag).

Following a refreshing breakfast of fruit, yogurt and cereal, I headed for my first treatment – a massage. Again a first for me. Admittedly, I was a little wary on entering the dimly lit room with background music playing. I was told to strip to my waist and did this at lightening speed, so as to be lying face down on the bed before the masseuse returned!

Then ooh. Aah. Nice. Oil everywhere. Hands sliding up and down my back and down my arms. It was quite disorientating. I thought the masseuse was standing by my legs, but eventually worked out she was in front of my head and pushing her hands downwards.

It was the most relaxing thirty minutes I’ve had since signing my publishing deal in 2013 and I hope friends and family of mine are reading this because: VOUCHERS PLEASE FOR CHRISTMAS AND BIRTHDAYS HEREON!

A manicure followed. I chose deep purple (the colour, not the music). Cue filing, polishing and a lovely chat. My short stubby nails were transformed into glamorous, plum-coloured talons.

The rest of the day (after an in-house Starbucks and lunch) was spent in the pool and jacuzzi. There was also a sauna and steam room. Fun was had with my lovely friends and daughter. I think we were all sorry to go home.

Heaven. I wish I’d lost my spa virginity a long time ago, but no matter – we’ve already agreed to do it again next year