Finally – a holiday fat map. Holiday destinations guaranteed to make you porky. When’s Part Two? The guide to places you get dysentery.
I remember the moment my food fatigue set in. I was at a business lunch in New York a fortnight after moving to the US and a third of the way through my ranch dressing-soaked excuse for a salad when the scene took on the quality of a nightmare. The snuffling noises emanating from a nearby table – where a man was inhaling heaped forkfuls of spaghetti carbonara – seemed to be growing grotesquely loud; the woman reaching for a spoonful of her son’s chocolate sundae predatory in her gluttony. All around, diners were engaged in the same robotic hand-to-mouth gesture, like drones with a grim job to do.