I’m back to Blighty after a fortnight in the sun. Well, mostly it was sunny, but some warm rain fell on a few occasions to the consternation of many of us who believed rain in Greece in August was the stuff of myth.
And now we’ve swapped our Mediterranean highs for Atlantic lows. For the moment, though, I can revel in my hard-earned tan, and enjoy the immediacy of the memories of another lovely holiday spent at the Mark Warner San Agostino resort.
My only complaint to customer services would be that I appear to have gained half a stone. Small wonder – another guest in the resort told me she had chosen San Agostino precisely because it has such a good reputation for food.
“It wasn’t the sailing or the windsurfing you came for then?”
I asked. “Oh no,” she replied, “although I’m happy to act as ballast.”
I didn’t think it polite to say that she had a lot of potential in that area, so I just smiled.
To make myself feel better about the additional pounds I’d acquired, I decided to try out the on-site Viva spa, where I booked myself a massage and a facial.
This took a little courage as I have been subjected to some pretty frightening massages at the hands of warrior people around the globe, and my fear of being hospitalised while some enthusiastic deep tissue fetishist gets to grips with my lumbar region has never really left me.
I am happy to report, however, that Kirsty from Dundee was firm but fair, and the crick I’d developed in my neck from lounging on the sun beds disappeared beneath her oily fingertips.
True, I couldn’t always understand what she was saying, and she had to ask me three times to turn over, but we got there in the end.
Following a sound telling off for my failure to moisturise, I was treated to a rejuvenating, rehydrating, replenishing and revitalising, facial designed to strip away the years.
“My, that’s a lot of hype!” I quipped.
“It’s anti-ageing,” I was assured.
“Oh, I’m anti-ageing,” I said, emphatically, “I don’t think anyone should have to do it.”
An hour later I re-emerged, relaxed and on the look-out for the next girl band to join. Not a wrinkle in sight!
Football given the boot
Girl bands were quite the order of the day on entertainment night when my grandchildren participated in the dance routines they’d put together during their time in the kids’ clubs.
I had no idea there was quite so much talent among them, or that my grandsons would so enjoy being the centre of so much attention from the girls. It makes a change from obsessing about cricket and football, so I’m all for it.
Greek tooth fairy to rescue
Of course, with every family holiday there comes a little drama. Gabriel, aged six, lost a tooth.
There was wailing and a gnashing of the remaining teeth as he worried his tooth fairy wouldn’t be able to find him in Greece, and that he would be a quid down on the deal.
After all, what’s the point of teeth if you can’t sell them? But San Agostino is a magical resort, and all it took was a word to the Greek receptionist.
The following morning I was assaulted by the same small boy waving a €2 coin and a small piece of paper. “A Greek tooth fairy came! She left a note…in Greek!”
The note, once translated by our lovely receptionist (funny, that), thanked him for his tooth, and pretty much asserted that the monuments of classical civilisation had been built with milk teeth.
The look of pride on his face will live on in my memory long after this tan has faded.
Water babies win awards
Another final night and another set of presentations from the childcare teams. The certificates they award to the children are treasured, and each time we come it’s a matter of considerable anticipation as to which award they will receive.
I discovered I had a ‘happy chap’, a ‘super waterskier’, a ‘wicked windsurfer’ and a newly qualified nine-year-old sailor. Sadly, they don’t offer a ‘proud grandmother’ award, but if they did, I know I’d be a dead cert.
And so we waved goodbye to the beautiful bay, the prospect of which had lifted my spirits every morning as I prepared for a hard day’s reading – six novels at the final count – and we all made a wish to return again next season.
With all that Mark Warner fairy magic at work, it might just come true!
Maureen Hill works at Travel Angels in Gillingham, Dorset