Wilson has been researching Things To Do In Newquay, or 'Nookey' as he insists on calling it, and has learned that it is not far from Port Isaac, AKA 'Portwenn' — the little fishing village where Doc Martin is filmed.
Doc Martin is one of Wilson's TV Favourites because the lovely Caroline Katz is a cast member, so he's now right up for going to Newquay instead of Fiji, as long as we can visit the fictional Portwenn.
I know what's going on in his head; he thinks they'll just happen to be filming while we're there and the Director will spot him and decide they need a 'handsome young anteater' to play a scene with 'Louisa Glasson' (the Caroline Katz character) and he'll get to take a selfie with her.
I honestly can't see them filming at the height of the tourist season, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it...
I wasn't looking forward to breaking the news to Wilson, but there's no use messing around — I grasped the nettle and told him straight.
'Um, Wilson,' I began, 'Can you spare me a minute? It's about our upcoming holiday.'
He turned, muted the travelogue he was watching, put down his glass of 901 Blue and gave me his full attention.
'I'm afraid we won't be going to Fiji...'
He raised his eyebrows quizzically, but I pressed on.
'Nor Bora Bora, nor the Seychelles...'
His gaze hardened.
'The Bahamas then?' he enquired. I shook my head.
'Ibiza? Paris? Venice?' he persisted.
'Newquay!' I announced, 'We're going to Newquay — it's lovely there in the summer, lots of beaches and pretty little villages...' I grew quiet under his increasingly baleful stare.
'Nookey?' he repeated, doubtfully. 'And where, pray, is this... "Nookey"?'
'It's in Cornwall,' I replied encouragingly, 'It's on the Cornish Riviera!'
Before Wilson went to stay with his Mum, Mrs Vermilingua, I promised him that when he returned we'd go on holiday to somewhere nice.
Right now he's in the living room, sipping a 901 Blue (whatever that is) while watching The Travel Channel, deciding where he'd like to go.
I hope he's not too disappointed when he finds out that I've already booked us into a hotel in Newquay!
Once the river tour ended and the boat finally docked, Wilson whisked me off to dinner at a very nice restaurant.
The food was lovely and I really enjoyed myself.
We both did.
What I can remember of it anyway.
I'm afraid I had to help Wilson finish up a few of his tots of medicinal Navy Rum before we left the boat, and I don't seem to be able to hold my drink as well as I used to.
Which is why the photo is a bit blurry — I'm sorry about that...
While Wilson made several more trips to the bar, the tour boat progressed up the Thames, past the Tower of London and beneath Tower Bridge, before stopping at Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament.
This is where the British Government meets, and Wilson announced that he would be disembarking here as he wanted to give 'that stupid Mr Farrage' a piece of his mind for getting the country into all this trouble.
I eventually dissuaded him by pointing out that the boat was getting very crowded and he might not be able to get back on when he'd finished in Parliament.
He conceded that this was a possibility and went to have a chat with the Tour Guide instead, adding, 'That vile Mr Farrage hasn't got away with it, though — I shall be writing him a VERY stiff letter when we get home!'
