EVER-RELIABLE EARLY evening winter warmer which hoved into view every January, until perishing in a state much changed from its original, imperial incarnation. Began as demented Election results-esque affair with SIR CLIFF MICHELMORE helming proceedings in front of rows of telephonists and assistants “reporting” on up-to-the-second vacation palavers and package dealathons. Slowly mutated into more soft-focus, soft-centred soiree during the 70s, typified by – erk – breastage creeping into opening titles to the swinging guitar sounds of Gordon Giltrap. While Cliff idled in the studio, DAME ANNE GREGG and LORD JOHN CARTER packed their travelling chests and tote bags to fly the world armed only with a flimsy straw hat and a BOAC boarding pass. Much “first hand” experience of burgeoning bargain getaway bonanza and resort gold rush contrasted with “off the beaten track” forays into erstwhile colonies, always ending with a shot of our heroes enjoying a well-earned tipple on a hotel balcony in front of a glorious sunset. Show breezed into the 80s pretty much unchallenged, leaving the trash and the tacky to Judith Chalmers. Decade-defining jaunts courtesy of FRANK AND NESTA BOUGH on their annual motoring holiday in Pyrenees in a pea green Ford Fiesta. Programme became even more laid back when DES LYNAM took over and quota of celebrity charmers “sampling the delights” of exotic beaches reached dizzying levels. 1990s saw inevitable slide thanks to obsession with famous faces fannying about in ludicrously expensive places, culminating in bone-chilling sight of ROLAND RIVRON and family trying to sell virtues of the African outback.