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When I was younger, from about the age of four or five, holidays for me were always about visiting my grandfather at Christmas. We lived in Chicago at the time, but would all descend on his little apartment in Florida for the holidays. By that time, he had a flat in a hotel, which was how a lot of older people in the area lived.

It was called Pan American, I think, and it was in Miami’s Coconut Grove area, near the beautiful, rippling Biscayne Bay and surrounded by swooping palm trees. So my whole family would go to the same place each year and we’d know everyone — there was a great community atmosphere.

I adored my grandfather, and we always had such a great time. He’d take us to our favourite Italian restaurant, Joe’s. It was on the pier, so boats could literally just pull right up to it; and the whole thing seemed very Italian. Everyone was like, “Whatta you want to eat?” Back in the day, that was what I thought a real Italian restaurant was all about — speaking in a thick accent.

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It was a wonderful time for me. We’d play shuffleboard and I’d while away the days swimming and jumping off the diving board. My grandfather would encourage me to go and jump off the board some more, and offer Shirley Temples as a bribe.

I don’t think you guys have them over here, but they’re pretend cocktails for kids — 7-Up with a little bit of grenadine syrup, which makes it look a little pink. They pour it into a tall cocktail glass and top it off with maraschino cherries and an umbrella.

I always felt so glamorous and sophisticated waltzing around the pool with one of those in my hands. My grandfather was just adorable.

I’ve travelled all over the world with work since, but I don’t get a great deal of time to go on holidays any more — my husband and I probably get a personal trip about once a year, and we always go on warm, beach-type breaks.

I don’t imagine I’d ever think, “Hey, let’s go skiing.” I’m just not into winter sports: I’m not much of an adrenaline junkie. I don’t need to party like it’s 1999 and go to clubs every night any more, either. I had some wild trips when I was younger — I spent my 30th birthday partying all night and taking over clubs in Las Vegas with friends — but holidays now are much tamer. They’re just about relaxing and spending time with family.

One of my favourite places to go is Mexico. It’s just fabulous, and it’s not highway robbery, like St Barts. As much as St Barts can be nice, it’s triple the price. You think, “Oh God, I could literally have gone on three trips to Mexico for that.” I just don’t think you need to pay a gazillion dollars to have a good time.

St Barts and Mexico are very much the same — same climate, beautiful beaches, exotic food — so why pay more? I love Mexican food, too — rice, beans and guacamole, just slap it on there!

Last year, I got married in Huatulco, at the Quinta Real hotel, in Oaxaca, on Mexico’s Pacific coast. Once again, it was a financial choice. We had a lot of people coming, and most did not want to be paid for, so I didn’t have the guts to say “Let’s go to Nevis”, because you’d never find rooms for the same price as at our hideaway in Mexico.

And it was a phenomenal place — a fusion of Mexican and Moroccan styles in beautiful whitewashed buildings, just amazing.

We rented the whole hotel, and every room had a dunking pool, a hammock and a balcony — and it was on a private beach. It felt like it should have had seven stars, but it was still super-reasonably priced. I think we chose well, because throughout the holiday, all our guests kept coming up to me and saying, “I can’t believe we can afford to stay here!”

Anastacia talked to Sian Thatcher

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