Eric Sykes

I’VE NEVER been able to separate holidays from work, a situation that exasperated my wife. She never really forgave me for one particular family holiday on the Italian Riviera in the 1950s. On our first night, we dined at the Grand Hotel Mediterranée, in Alassio. They asked if I’d do a show. I was reluctant, but when they offered 10% of the takings, I agreed — despite my wife’s protests. I thought it would be low-key, but banners advertised it along the main street and a plane flew over the beach dropping leaflets. A big crowd came, which meant my cut was an enormous wad of lire that paid for the holiday.