I’ve been very fortunate that my work has taken me to a lot of places where people go for their holidays. One of the best experiences I had was learning to ride a wetbike, for The Spy Who Loved Me.

I had to be able to ride it in a suit, without falling in and getting wet, so they sent me to Sardinia and I spent a couple of weeks whizzing around the bay, lunching and dining in great style. That was one of the best holidays I’ve ever had — and I got paid for it.

When we go away now, I try to choose somewhere I haven’t been for work. Last year, we went to the Maldives for a couple of weeks with Kristina’s daughter and her fiancé.

We stayed at Soneva Fushi, a beautiful Robinson Crusoe island with luxury houses dotted along the beach, and no cars. We rented a villa tucked away in some greenery by the sea, with a pool that almost came into the living room.

My best holidays were before the war, when I was seven or eight. We used to stay with my step-aunt, who lived in a house at the posh end of Margate. There was always a big collection of relatives, and the house was so full that I used to sleep in the bath or the garden.

During the days, we’d walk past all the houses called Seaview, from which you couldn’t actually see the sea unless you stood on the chimney tops and freeze to death in the sea before having a hot chocolate with foam on the top. I was deliriously happy there.

Skiing is one thing I’ve done regularly since learning how to do it for The Spy Who Loved Me.

I was taught in Gstaad, and after that we used to go to Zermatt every year at the start of the ski season. I love skiing, but I’ve slowed down a lot over the years: I can no longer do it as if I were in a Bond movie.

Food is always one of the main delights of a holiday, and I know I’ll bring the wrath of French cooks on my head, but I think the best food in the world can be found in Belgium. David Niven told me a wonderful story about dining out in Belgium at the end of the second world war.

Bruges had just been liberated and he drove a Jeep there with a friend in order to have lunch at a favourite canalside restaurant. He said the food was magnificent and the owner was so pleased to see them that he brought out some vintage wine that had escaped the Germans’ notice.

When he returned to his unit, he was told the Germans had recaptured Bruges — he’d risked crossing enemy lines just to have lunch. Niv always maintained it was worth the risk.

Venice is another favourite eating place of mine. I adore the city and always make a point of visiting the Cipriani, on Torcello, for lunch when I’m there. It’s the most magical place and they serve one of my favourite dishes — black squid.

On one trip, I remember going to the theatre with Gregory Peck and his wife, and Liza Minnelli. We dined at Harry’s Bar, which Michael Winner rates as one of the best restaurants in the world, and after a wonderful dinner we hired a couple of gondolas. Quite a lot of wine had been consumed and the party was fairly raucous.

I remember Liza singing: “Start spreading the news. . . ” It was about two in the morning by this stage, and someone opened a window in one of the houses and shouted: “Shut up, who do you think-a you are? Liza Minnelli?”

It saddens me going back to places that have changed or been spoilt beyond recognition. Ko Tapu, in Thailand, is a sad example of this. It was where we shot The Man with the Golden Gun, and at the time it was a completely deserted paradise, with miles and miles of empty white-sand beaches.

These days, it’s been renamed James Bond Island, and has really been destroyed because of the film. A few years ago, we had a sailing holiday off the coast of Phuket with a group of friends, including King Gustaf and Queen Silvia of Sweden. They were keen to see the island, but we could hardly get anywhere near it. There were jettiesand piers all over the place, and shops everywhere. So we moved on.