Just when I thought it couldn’t get any better – The Ritz Hotel London arranged a chauffeured Rolls Royce Phantom (0-100 in 5 seconds) which according to Winston who drove us and (recently Bill Clinton and Prince Albert of Monaco) to “41” where are now staying. Our suite 4126 overlooks The Queen’s (the real one) stables. We’re now off to see Spamalot. Pinch me, someone pinch me.

Ouch, that hurt. Ok, I’m not dreaming.

In my imaginings, and there have many wild ones, I never did think I’d have lunch of pumpkin flowers with lobster while overlooking Florence from my R14K a night hotel after having visited the Uffizi gallery in search of Michelangelo’s David.

It has rained on us for six days, one hour before Zurich’s Street Party Love Parade (pics above) set off it stopped and the heavens shone on the great and good, the buff and beautiful, the round and square and every other manifestation of human existence. What a party!

Loved Bern (despite the rain), loved Zurich and now in Geneva. JP and his brother met for the first time in their lives – wow, what a moment. To cope with the emotional overload I dragged him to the final day of Geneva’s festival and funfair on the Lake. So beautiful – hot sun, the Jet d’Eau in all its 150 meter glory, zillions going on break-neck rides and others, like us eating crepes with chocolate and Chorros (I think) pastry squished into star shaped tubes, deep fried and served up in a paper cone doused with sugar. After all the travels, we will spend the day relaxing at Le Bains – the pool jetty on lake Leman.

It's a tough life... Checked in to the v v fabulous Four Seasons George V, blown away by the staff's smiles and Jeff Leatham's floral art (flowers doesn't say it nearly well enough). Upgraded to suite 630 with a view over the Hermes HQ and backwards to the Eifel Tower. Dietrich stayed here too if her framed picture next to the coffee table in the suite sitting room is anything to go by. Just finished breakfast at La Cinq. At €48 I was examining every bite - it cost twice what last night's dinner did - cheap at the price. As I said, it's a tough life.

Big kisses go to Stephen Forbes at Meropa who represents BA and Sue whose name on a ticket means access to the Club lounge from where I am now writing.

We got to the airport early so only a handful of others are here. I expected the lounge would be more luxe but I'm pleased that it is of the same quality as the Premier Class lounge I regularly use freely with my Diners Club card.

Check-in went smoothly but still took an hour and a last-minute consciousness lapse meant I brought my Khiel's moisture lotion in my carry-on. I had to empty its contents into a plastic bag or dump the lot. Questions currently on my mind: Will the lounge access in Cape Town mean arrival lounge access in London; why is the Peter O'Toole lookalike wearing pants with elasticised ankles; will no spell check finally expose me; what happens to all the dumpted goodies - is there some great semi-used liquids sale that I'm missing and, finally, when will the pink bubble burst? So far everything is running to plan.

I have a plastic fetish. Few things give me as much pleasure as neatly wrapping things in plastic bags. From the fridge to the store cupboard, my things are neatly locked-in. I suppose it is an attempt to manage messiness – my natural state.

At the moment, I’m looking lovingly at my Samsonite American Tourister having packed each item into a zip-loc bag. The gallon size works well for shirts (and two interlocked suffice for trousers). The quart size is good for individual underwear although I’ve kept all mine in a pillow-sized plastic zipper thingy that I’ve had for years.

The bag is heavier than I hoped it would be. I think I need to cull.

I’ve put out what I think I’ll need in Europe. One suit (for dinner on the Orient Express and at The Ritz), two trousers, four blue shirts (two casual with short sleeves, one formal white shirt (note to self to get a suit that can be worn with a blue shirt in the future), five undies, five socks, one jacket for day wear, a light-weight pullover, cozzie, crocs (to double as slippers and to wear to the pool, casual shoes (to double as gym shoes), two ties to match blue and black and one ¾ pant to wear to the Street Party in Zurich. 

The other necessities take up much more space than I imagined. Camera, computer, chargers, note books, toiletries (deo, moisturiser, razor as I’ll use the amenities in the hotel bathrooms) and meds – blood pressure, anxiety (in case I have to pay for laundry at The Ritz), flu, hay fever and for runny tum. Also a stash of antibiotics if I catch a bug. 

As on-board luggage I’m taking sample sized stuff for a luxury shave on arrival, moisturiser, lipbalm (essential to remain kissable), small size Evian atomizer (I hope they won’t ask me to leave it behind), a kikoi to use as a blanket (I hate the feeling of the fire-retarding fabric, ear plugs, eye mask and neck pillow. iPod. Change of underwear.

I’m hoping that an upgrade to First on British Airways will really make my dreams come true.