The problems start the moment I settle into my seat on the plane. The armrests are digging into my sides. The man walking down the aisle realises his seat is next to mine and doesn't look pleased. I try and take up as little space as possible, but my avoirdupois is ample. A trolley dolly offers me a seatbelt extender and I flash an angry look: I'm not THAT fat. The tray table will not fold down, I cannot move my arms and I'm facing a nine-hour flight wedged into a seat that constricts my blood flow. Welcome to the world of the larger traveller. Welcome to my world.

I am 5ft 8in, a size 24 and have been fat my whole life. Someone recently asked me if I'd like to be thin. It's like asking me if I want to be a man, or if I'd like to be black. I just don't know; the reality is so far removed from my existence it is difficult to imagine what it would be like. Being fat doesn't bother me - I am used to it. But sometimes it is a hassle, mostly due to people's ignorance and rudeness. Like the time a London bus driver slammed the doors in my face and shouted 'No room left for a fatty like you, love!' Or when I tried to hire a flamenco dress for a masquerade party. The shop assistant, explaining why he didn't have one in my size, said it was because 'fat people can't dance'.

The real gems happen when I'm on holiday. I generally avoid package deals and prefer to travel inde pendently; I like to immerse myself in local life, for better or for worse. As a result I have learnt reactions to fat people vary across the globe, and my most important travelling companion is a sense of humour. In Spain, grandmothers usually stop, stare at me and whisper the word gorda to each other behind their hands. In Italy, I provoke much more positive responses. This summer in Sicily I had several short, hairy, middle-aged men tell me they loved me. Whenever I visit Rome, home to some of the most beautiful people on earth, both men and women stop me in the street to tell me how stylishly gorgeous I am. Who am I to argue?

But it was in Cuba that I developed a very tough skin. I was travelling with my partner, who is average-sized. We hired a bicycle taxi to take us across town for an agreed price. When we arrived at our destination the driver looked me straight in the eye and demanded double, because 'you're so fat I had to pedal harder'. In Cienfuegos a waitress refused to let me see a menu. Her reason? 'You're too fat already - you don't need to eat dinner.' Small children and grandmothers (what is it with them?) walked up to me in Havana and pinched my flesh in amazement.

If I could sum up my experiences as a travelling fat female object of desire and derision, it would be in a few words sung by Danny la Rue: 'I am what I am - I don't want praise, I don't want pity.' OK, maybe the praise. But keep your pity to yourself.

I have become increasingly aware that I am not alone in my largesse. Everywhere I look, there seem to be more fat people. More than half the UK population is overweight or obese: that's about 24 million of us. As we get fatter, will the travel industry respond by making our holidays, from beginning to end, more accommodating to excess flesh? Airlines are adapting - American Airlines recently removed thousands of seats from economy cabins, raising the average seat pitch to a comfy 36 inches. Holiday companies have introduced specialist options such as llama trekking for Jewish singles and luxury cruising for gay couples. This niche has not been a possibility for fatties - until now.

Freedom Paradise is the world's first size-friendly holiday resort. It has just opened on the Riviera Maya, among the palm trees, alabaster beaches and clear Caribbean waters south of Cancun in Mexico. The resort's name and concept connotes a chubby heaven where everyone is fat and fabulous, but I was dubious. Is Freedom Paradise an idyllic place for a big beautiful holiday, or is it a ghetto where fat people console their misery over an open bar and all-you-can-eat buffet?

You don't have to be fat to stay at Freedom Paradise (but it helps). There isn't a Fat Guard at reception wielding a tape measure ensuring guests meet minimum girth requirements. But prepare to be shocked. I was when I saw a fellow female guest who weighed in the region of 30 stone, and was forced to confront my own prejudices. Fat people can be terribly judgmental about other chubsters. I found it difficult, beyond the folds of flesh, to see the person underneath. Once I got past the surface, the rewards of holiday friendship with Nicki from Michigan were instant. We share similar interests, and were both taunted by the same names at school. A friend told her about Freedom Paradise; Nicki loves swimming but hates the teasing whenever she wears her bathing suit in public. Over a few margaritas, Nicki told me how her mother put her on diet pills at the age of nine and refused to let her eat the same meals as the rest of the family. Nicki went on to become a compulsive eater; she is currently at her heaviest and gets professional help for her problem. For her, Freedom Paradise's name says it all.

Everything you would expect at an all-inclusive resort is here, but is adapted for fat people. All staff are trained in 'size awareness issues', and are friendly and accommodating. But it is ironic that the native Mayan people are short and of slight build - next to guests, they look Lilliputian. The air-conditioned rooms are smaller than I had expected, but Freedom Paradise has been adapted from an existing resort and the rooms originally had double beds; now they have reinforced king-sized ones. Bathroom doorways have been widened, and the showers are huge. Ground-floor rooms open on to a private patio overlooking the pools and sea, with wooden lounge chairs and a supersize hammock. I confess I didn't try the hammock; I was afraid I wouldn't be able to get out!

The public areas are size-friendly too. In the outdoor dining room, extra large chairs are painted in bright Mexican colours. In high season there is a buffet and five restaurants; during my low-season stay, only two were open along with the poolside barbecue. The chef creates a mix of Mexican and gringo fare: enchiladas or omelettes for breakfast, tacos with mole sauce or rib-eye steak for dinner. Though delicious, the portions were on the small size; I hope this was more to do with local standards rather than a covert slimming operation.

Poolside sun loungers are made of sturdy wood, and some are double size - suitable for one supersize guest. Tables and benches are hewn from tree trunks and support even the plumpest. One of the four pools has in-water seats next to a sunken bar - sipping a pina colada in my XXL bikini has never been so easy! The same bar also has oversized swings made of thick planks of wood and super strong rope instead of bar stools. I lazily swung back and forth in the Caribbean breeze and contemplated my ample rolls of flesh... which is exactly what one of my fellow guests was doing.

Eduardo is a charming thirtysomething Mexican who readily describes himself using the acronyms invented by the size acceptance movement in America. He is an FA (Fat Admirer) and a BHM (Big Handsome Man). Visiting Freedom Paradise was the first step for Eduardo in admitting he likes larger women. I quickly became the object of his unrequited affection and an offer of marriage was in the sea breeze. We agreed to remain friends and shared a few platonic evenings together over cocktails instead. His friend Humberto offered moral support, and by the end of the trip was converted by the wiles of BBWs (Big Beautiful Women).

'They are just nicer than skinny ladies,' he said. Which is a broad brushstroke, but the women at Freedom Paradise didn't seem to mind. The sight of Humberto - a muscular Latin hunk - parading about in his leopard-print thong set temperatures rising. Freedom Paradise is no chubby knocking shop, but it is an ideal place to meet like-minded people - and possible partners.

Each morning at Freedom Paradise begins with an optional exercise class designed for large people by Kelly Bliss, America's plus-size fitness guru. We did simple low-stress stretching and aerobics but I got the feeling that we'd all have to do this 24/7 for the rest of our lives for it to have any major impact. My favourite activity involved lying immobile on the beach at sunset while Teresita, a massage therapist, pummelled me.

The management at Freedom Paradise have got most things right. But one of the pools, beautifully tiled in azure blue, does not have a handrail so getting in and out can be difficult. Some activities have not been adapted yet: kayaks, water buggies and small boats are aquatic nightmares for chubsters. And plastic chairs are a collapsing time bomb; during my stay a chair crumpled under the weight of one guest who was lucky to escape injury. The staff seem to have an honest dedication to their unique concept, and their personal touch is a far cry from the faceless anonymity reported at many all-inclusive resorts.

Does Freedom Paradise live up to its name? I found it truly relaxing and a relief to enjoy myself in all my corpulence away from the prying eyes and judgmental sneers of skinny people. Whether it encourages us fat people to stay fat, or is a necessary antidote to a society that often wrongly stereotypes us as lazy, stupid and out of control, is up for debate. Brits are the world leaders in package holidays, and with the UK population getting fatter by the day, I don't think it will be long before we see a Freedom Paradise on the Costa del Sol. Freedom Paradise may be a chubby ghetto, but it is the first time I have felt totally comfortable prancing around in my specially bought skimpy swimsuit. And THAT is fat liberation!

Factfile

Freedom Paradise, Tulum, Mexico (00 52 998 887 1101). Rooms start at $155 (£92.50) per night per person double occupancy, all meals and drinks included. Single occupancy £110.50 Transfers from Cancun airport cost £71.50 round trip. Plus-size fitness: www.kellybliss.com

Getting there: Amy Lamé flew with American Airlines (08457 789789). Round trip flights from London to Cancun start at £600 including tax.

· Amy Lamé is arts correspondent for BBC London 94.9FM