Allowing for a degree of the British propensity for irony, I am not quite sure if the writers are parodying a certain category of holidaymaker or if there is a documentary element to this curiously popular programme.

Whatever the motives, the series is as appealing as the prospect of spending a holiday in this over-developed Spanish resort. The vista of high-rise blocks hugging the seafront is enough to send me running for the preferably lightly populated and unspoiled hills.

Travel is supposed to broaden the mind – but only if a traveller is prepared to step outside his or her comfort zone to embrace a foreign culture and try new things. Otherwise they might as well stay at home.

Cheap holidays, in the form of all-inclusive packages, are an anathema to travel broadening the mind, let alone the prospects of learning anything about a foreign destination. Which is why the recent announcement by a mainstream UK holiday company that it was planning to make all its holidays ‘all-inclusive’ was the biggest set-back for international relations since the foundations were laid for the Berlin Wall.

An all-inclusive holiday includes flights, transport from airport to resort and vice-versa, hotel accommodation, three meals a day and unlimited local drinks as standard – all served in the hotel, with trips to take in some local culture as optional extras.

The company, First Choice, has as its market the budget-conscious British holidaymaker so often the butt of jokes and parodies such as Benidorm. For families hit by the credit crunch, the prospect of saving more than £500 by going for an all-inclusive option, compared to having to buy meals, snacks, travel and entertainment by travelling independently could mean the difference between staying at home and going abroad.

Yet what is the point of travelling to another country if the closest you get to engaging with the local population is by ordering a drink from a hotel waiter? Standard hotel fare in foreign climes is hardly representative of the local cuisine and you can forget learning anything about the culture when fellow Brits enjoying a working holiday in the sun provide the nightly entertainment.

Yet hundreds of thousands of people take such holidays every year, so who I am to turn my nose up at them? It may be my idea of a living hell, but for those sold on the idea it is the perfect opportunity to relax, over-indulge and unwind for a week or two away from the daily grind.

Am I exhibiting the prejudices of a holiday snob? Probably, but the idea of a luxury cruise also sends a shiver down my spine. What could be worse than being confined in an enclosed environment with no means of escape other than a lifeboat, and nothing to look at for most of the time than miles and miles of open sea?

Give me independent travel any day. The only problem is I lack the independent means and overly-generous paid holiday leave to indulge my passion as much as I would like. So it is fortuitous that 11 years ago I found my holiday heaven in the Camel Estuary on Cornwall’s north coast.

It was to my great delight that the global travel review website, Tripadvisor, voted my favourite beach, Harbour Cove or Padstow Beach number eight in the top ten of British beaches. Another equally stunning Cornish beach, St Ives, topped the poll but putting patriotism aside, I was a tad surprised that St Brelade’s Bay came in at number six.

If there was any beach in the Island that comes close to a Spanish costa then it is St Brelade. There is no questioning that it is a beautiful beach – but only if you face out to sea, as the shoreline and hinterland were long ago ruined by indiscriminate development based on the ‘pack ’em in’ mentality.

It was the principle of quantity over quality that was the driving force of the heyday of Jersey’s ‘bucket and spade’ tourism industry in the 1960s and 70s. All-inclusive packages and cheap travel for railway workers on the British Rail-owned ferry operator, Sealink, and mail boats before that, brought so many holidaymakers to our shores that the Island bulged at the seams.

There were days in the peak season around the Battle of Flowers when scarcely a patch of bare sand was visible in the likes of St Brelade’s Bay, Long Beach or at West Park. It was also not unheard of for buses and coaches bound for St Brelade to turn back at the top of hills leading to the bay because there was no room left to park, let alone a clear passage for traffic.

Would any sane person welcome back those ‘good old’ days?

While the income would be a boost to the economy and loosen the finance sector’s grip on the Island’s tiller, would Islanders want to relive the traffic congestion, overcrowded beaches and thousands of tourists idly meandering the town streets?

Probably not.

As the Island’s coastline comes under increasing threat from developers looking for stunning views to inflate even further the ‘luxury’ price tags of grandiose seafront properties, how many of our precious bays will qualify for the best beach league in years to come?