As Sarah trawls the internet searching for inspiration for her hen do before our wedding next summer, I have no such worries. Because my stag weekend has already been sorted. You see, men can be organised when they need to be.
Before you think it will be something like the new movie Hangover 2, may I point out it will be a trip full of culture and discovery rather than drunkenness and debauchery!
You’re probably thinking I need my pipe and slippers, but the idea of trawling around bars and clubs, followed by a lapdancing club and a curry, fills me with dread and fear.
Where’s the fun in that?
The thing is, I felt that some of my friends thought that this was what a stag do should be all about and that it wouldn’t be a proper one unless I was left wearing a mankini and handcuffed to the railings in Anglesea Road in the middle of Portsmouth.
I have two best men, Graham and Stuart. They are two of my dearest and most valued friends. The ones who know me more than anyone, especially the fact that my buttocks should never see the light of day (don’t ask).
So could I get them to organise something the groom-to-be really wanted to do, or should it be something the majority were up for?
If the former were true, we’d be off to Dover for some ship spotting, getting there on an old Provincial bus. So you can see the job my best men had!
Who would have thought the Eureka moment would come on a Christmas get-together with friends from near and far in the casino at Gunwharf Quays.
‘How about a road trip to France?’ said Jimmy.
‘Yeah, we can stay in a flash château and visit vineyards for wine-tasting,’ said Mike. Then came the suggestion about heading down to the Vendee for a spot of surfing.
So there it is. My perfect idea of a stag do. A trip to France on a ferry, followed by a Top Gear-style road trip, sampling some of the finest wines France has to offer. I may even phone up James May to see if he’d like to join us.
I’m just hoping the French have a ban on the mankini though – just in case.