I have been dithering for years about when to stop judging The Great British Bake Off. When I joined nine years ago, I thought, since I was in my mid-seventies, that I’d be lucky to manage two years. At that age, my mother was deaf as a post and away with the fairies, believing her son was her father and that her cat was the one she’d had 40 years before. But my marbles stayed more or less in place and there seemed no good reason to give up a job I loved. Finally, though, the desire to work less and play more got to me. Bake Off and its offshoots such as The Great American Baking Show and even the Christmas specials are all filmed in the summer, which has meant I could never have a summer holiday.

So, I finally jumped. What triggered my decision was that I’ve just had the best holiday in my long life. In Madagascar, on the tiny tropical island of Nosy Komba, with a flat blue sea with nothing on it: no jet skis, no music, no bars. Just a lone canoe and a single fisherman with a handline or hoisting a sail to drift slowly along. But that’s in the southern hemisphere – and while it’s great for escaping the English winter, I suddenly realised that if I don’t give up Bake Off, I’ll never again have a holiday in the south of France, in Italy, in Spain, or even in Cornwall or Scotland.

Nigella Lawson is to replace me. Perfect. She’s a great baker and knows her onions, cookies, crumbles and croissants. She’s also really nice, mighty glam and seriously bright, sexy and sassy. I’m just glad she wasn’t in the running nine years ago.

Of course, I do know what I will be missing. The dithering was because there cannot be a better job in the world. Being paid to eat cake, and to do it for a company that is entirely honourable and pays a decent whack, takes some beating. And it’s hardly taxing. I never had to learn lines, rehearse, go to meetings. Paul Hollywood and I just walked on, ate cake, said what we thought and walked off. And while the bakers baked, I’ve had time to write books: cookbooks, novels and memoirs. Best of all, it has been a joy to work in such great company. I find it irritating when businesses insist their staff are all just one happy family. But that tent does seem to create an atmosphere of enjoyment, friendship and mutual support. I’ll not forget that summer we spent in the middle of nowhere during the Covid lockdown – 100 or so people incarcerated in a country house hotel. It sounded like a recipe for disaster but ended up being like a Butlin’s holiday camp. We played rounders, had pizza nights (Paul brought his pizza oven and cooked for everyone), sunbathed, wallowed in a giant paddling pool and danced on the terrace outside the bar.

I’ve made truly great friends. I’ll miss Paul’s teasing (he jokes about my extreme old age, pretending to help me into a chair, bending over to bellow in my supposedly deaf ear: ‘Come on dearie, upsy-daisy, it’s time for your tea’). Alison Hammond in the flesh is exactly the same as Alison on screen: unstoppable, loving, hilarious. I’ll miss her giant hugs and screaming laughter. And Noel Fielding is something of a hero for me. Funny, multi-talented, slightly crazy. I was forever checking his hands: he’s a painter and doesn’t remember that fingers covered in paint or ink are not a good look on a cake show.

And yes, I’ll miss the degree of attention bestowed by Bake Off. I’m such an egotist: I love it when people ask me for a selfie. It has been wonderful being treated like a VIP, being asked to open school kitchens or fairs, to be chancellor of Queen Margaret University in Edinburgh, to be invited on HMS Queen Mary as a speaker, or to go to dinners or first nights. I’m writing this in the car, driven by my husband John, on the way to the Lord Provost’s Burns Night supper in Edinburgh, where I will bang on about my connections with Scotland, and John will give the address to the haggis. What fun!

But in the end, I persuaded myself that at 86, it was time I jumped before I was pushed. In all my conversations over the past two years with the bosses of Love Productions, which makes the programme, they’ve always insisted I was doing a great job and could stay as long as I like. And I know I’d enjoy it if I stayed. But I do want to reorganise my life a bit. Ideally, I’d like to work in winter and play in summer. I’d like to stick with Prue Leith’s Cotswold Kitchen for ITV. And I’d love to keep working for Channel 4 – if they can just leave my summers alone.