I am considering a new career as a currency trader. The pound is, as we all know, ailing against every other currency – indeed it was the worst performing in the world in October (the best was the Suriname dollar). Imagine my delight while clearing up the drawer in the kitchen reserved for assorted cr*p (used numerical birthday candles saved in case child turns eight again) and finding a stash of Euro coins. Altogether, there are eight Euros, all from long-ago holidays exchanged when the pound was still strong.
Moving on to the cupboards, I discover we have a spare jar of Marmite – bought in the summer, I think. The price of the salty spread is rising because its manufacturer Unilever says the pound’s fall has made Marmite more expensive to make (even though it is made in the UK and little is exported). Anyway given how much the black gold is now commanding then the jar looks like a pretty good currency hedge.
And while there is very little to be smug about in the school playground, my skint-ness (and skinflint-ness) has given me a level of superiority. Those who went off on trips at half term were bruised by the cost: £14 for a beer in Iceland; West-end prices for pizzas in the Canaries. Staying at home was a good financial call, if not the exciting one. And we didn’t even have to smuggle our Marmite down to breakfast to make the usual rubbish overseas hotel meal palatable.
See our guide to holiday money here.