Nosiness is a vice, we all know that. Yet my interest in the lives of others is verging on unhealthy. I am a curtain-twitching, envelope-steaming sneak. So when the chance arose to spend a weekend snooping around someone else’s home, I couldn’t resist.

Trade To Travel is an exclusive club whose members all have homes to spare. Founded in the US more than ten years ago and recently launched here, TTT helps holiday homeowners to maximise their investment and travel at the same time. It’s paradise for nosey people like me. “You walk into someone’s home and take over their life,” says Elizabeth Orchard, who owns two apartments in Florence. “

Their pictures hang on the walls and their books sit on the shelves. It’s much more personal than an hotel.”

She bought the flats when one of her daughters was studying there. “This was back in the days of the lira,” says Orchard, who lives near Bath. “Since my daughter left I only go for the odd weekend, which seemed a waste. By letting them, I get to take very nice holidays for very little.”

Nothing so vulgar as money changes hands — it’s all done on points. And trust. You must own at least one holiday home to join TTT. Membership fees start at £60 and each property has a points value based on rental value. Orchard earns five points every time one of her apartments is let and then spends these points on a property of her choice. For 20 points she could stay in a waterfront house on a small island off Bermuda. The Caribbean offers many properties, the grandest being an eight-bedroom villa on Barbados (it costs 50 points). There’s even a castle or two. The system is perfect for those unwilling to spend all their holidays in one place. Members choose from more than 1,000 properties in 23 countries, mainly in America, Australia, South Africa and the Far East. Europe is a small — but growing — market. Properties range in value from $200,000 (£114,000) to $7 million (£4 million) — rich pickings for those seeking a peek at another life, if only for a weekend.

Despite not having a holiday home to let, I am granted temporary admission to this exclusive club — a weekend in one of Orchard’s apartments. “They don’t let just anyone join,” she says, sniffily. “So I don’t worry about things being damaged. You’re always consulted about guests and can refuse, but I never have.”

But would she have allowed me to stay if she knew I would root through every single cupboard? I had to — I couldn’t stop myself. And I’ll say now, I didn’t find anything shocking. “I put all my personal things away,” says Orchard.

Not quite all. Black-and-white family photographs in silver frames reveal a strong family likeness. Vogue magazines on the coffee table prove she’s into fashion, but the wardrobes are empty, except for spare quilts and pillows. Circled ads in the local English-language newspaper indicate that Orchard wants to improve her Italian and find a cleaner. A couple of Jamie Oliver books point towards an interest in food — the San Lorenzo market is right down the road. But the kitchen doesn’t feel as if it’s seen much cooking. And tantalisingly, one of the kitchen cupboards is locked — what’s in there? Briefly, I consider breaking and entering. Then I realise I can barely order coffee in Italian, let alone a locksmith. Then I remember something about trust.

A glance through the Rolodex left by the phone shows that her hairdresser is Fabulous Fabio and her favoured olive-oil supplier is Conti. There are contact numbers for restaurants, bars and taxi firms — everything you need to live a life somewhere new. All of this is far less spectacular, but much more interesting, than the red roof of the Duomo from the roof terrace. Anyone can see that. But only I can see it from here. These are rooms with a view — not just of Florence, but of someone else’s life.

Details: Elizabeth Orchard, www.lakeorchard.com

Trade to Travel www.tradetotravel.com

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