SOLO travellers around the world, it has been announced, are "being given the opportunity to save money by splitting the cost of a room with a complete stranger".

What you do is log on to Easynest.com, set up a profile, and if a fellow traveller likes the cut of your internet jib, they'll get in touch.

Before you know it, you're having a sleepover with a brand new friend.

Oh, what fun. In your younger mind at least you can just imagine the sharer will look the double of Susan Dey out of the Partridge Family, or Susan George, or any other gorgeous Susan you can think of. And it makes you think back to much younger days when travel encounters resulted in great shared room experience; the two fun, skippy Australian girls in Costa Rica, the two Paisley girls in Tel Aviv.

And it was all about talking through the night, telling stories, sharing thoughts and dreams and nonsense ideas.

Yes, sharing was great. Even with the same sex, even in the same bed, back in the day of Eric and Ernie innocence, when no-one even blinked a suspicious eye.

But a little more travel reminiscing recalls less romantic imagery.

There was the nice Indian couple who shared their food on the sleeper train but could have represented their country in the snoring Olympics.

There was the English bloke in Columbia who liked to sleep naked – on top of the covers.

And even my close pal Steve was a nightmare to share a room with, given he talked in his sleep almost as much as he did in daylight.

There are other issues which lift the roller blinds on reality.

I no longer sleep like a baby; I sleep like a baby with colic.

These days, I like to go to sleep before the sun comes up. I like heavy curtains and a light feather pillow.

I don't want to hear breathing in the same room unless it's coming from the radio, or someone whose personal history I've familiar with.

And I want to be able to go to the bathroom at 5am without worrying about finding clothes – and finding myself on the receiving end of a law suit.

And I'm fairly sure the room-sharing applicant won't describe themselves as "Norman Bates-like" or "psycho-bitch" when applying.

Come to think of it, I'll pay the extra.

Unless of course the female really is a dead ringer for Susan Dey.

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