We acquired a second-hand caravan about a decade ago.

By second-hand, I mean it was from the wrecking yard, written off after having been rolled in an accident, with all of the past owner's toiletries and cutlery scattered about providing the perfect impression of two wheelie bins emptied inside.

It's the caravan we could afford, so we cleaned it out and a friend helped us patch it up and it is beautiful.

Luckily I've never been afraid of a scrubbing brush and my husband and his contacts are pretty handy with everything else.

Boasting a toilet and shower on board, with four bunks down the back and a double bed up the front, I could never see myself wanting for anything else.

With fold-up bunks and a drawbridge back to load the road racing motorbikes, my husband was perfectly sure he had all he needed.

Three teenage daughters later, we realised that just fitting the girls' cases for a one-night stay was getting squishy.

They alone had about one wheelie bin full of toiletries and another full of shoes.

When we all tried to pile onto that one double bed up the front to watch the latest series of Netflix's 'The Crown' on the cereal box-sized telly above the sink, there were a few complaints about the amount of long legs getting tangled up.

So my brilliant husband found us an annexe - second-hand obviously - but in very good nick.

You should just see us swanning about now.

There's room for a trestle table and full-sized television in our neat additional room, plus beanbags and a mattress and plenty of room for completely stuffed suitcases to be easily accessed without causing any fisticuffs.

The bike helmets and Esky are now safely housed while my 13-year-old's three pairs of sneakers in different styles can sit happily in one corner without tripping anyone up.

Like any major home improvement, you wonder how you ever coped before, then fall asleep in a comfy chair with a good book.