WHEN I used to travel to the southern half of the country many years ago I got to stay at someone's house.

It was the done thing back then, and sometimes my whole family would descend upon this poor bloke's home.

From that base we would then visit all the other people we knew and even go sightseeing for good measure.

Typical Londoner would think life was so much better down south but I could see he was burning up inside when he had to go out and buy eggs and bread every morning.

It must have cost him a packet. I sniggered at his misfortune.

I would reallly live it up. Fresh roti (chappati) and salon (curry) was served at all hours and I got treated like a king.

I was on holiday and I was going to make sure I had a good time.

But things have changed these days and one must book a hotel when one has to go to London. We are not so lucky when it comes to finding relatives' houses to stay in. No-one wants to know us anymore.

However, the same cannot be said of the people who come to my house . . . especially the ones from abroad.

Boy, are they making my life hell. I got the whole crew down over the holidays and they all wanted to go to the Trafford Centre.

So I took them and they said it was rubbish.

They boasted about how much money they all made down south. Why then did they on discovering TJ Hughes make me take them there twice a day for a week?

Take us somewhere interesting' they exclaimed. So I headed off to Blackpool but they said it was boring.

Why don't you go on some rides then, I said. There was a pause, everyone scratched their heads as if I was speaking Russian and then I had to go and pay for the tickets.

I got a team from Italy down recently and they landed at Luton Airport. Not Manchester but Luton. Why? because the ticket cost £30 less.

What they didn't realise was I had to drive 200 miles and spend £80 to pick the three of them up! But that didn't matter because they saved 30 quid.

A normal house guest knows that he or she is just that . . . a guest. But not the ones who have come to mine.

The one I got snored all night, kept getting up to go to the toilet and even sneaked downstairs to raid the fridge. It's been pay-back time.