For several years, I have been telling my family that this year will be the last year. Yes, boys’ holidays should be a thing of the past. Yes, we’re too old to be seeing old friends more than fleetingly and more than once a year (it’s called middle age), let alone playing football (our average age is over 50), let alone in some of the world’s hottest – politically and meteorologically – places. But it’s just so much fun. We (aka the Racing Club de Blackheath, a group of friends from south-east London) started doing the odd tour in the 1980s, and having seen much of Eastern and Western Europe by the end of the last millennium, we raised our gaze to take in Cuba, Lebanon, Iran, Pakistan,…