Twelve months in Corfu: our big fat Greek gap year comes to an end

After the mother ship's arrival on the quayside, I am sitting on a Superfast ferry, ploughing through the Adriatic towards Ancona, Italy. It might be superfast but it will still take seventeen hours to get there.

Luckily, Mr Grigg upgrades us from aircraft seats to a proper cabin. Nice one.

Our big fat Greek gap year has come to an end, our last day spent in the village watching the world and his wife go by.

Our ox-strong neighbour is chopping wood, Canadian George stops for a chat with a scrumped bag of mandarins. And the Albanian handyman gives us a salute as he strolls by with his strimmer.

The purple school bus 'Michalis 1' disgorges its secondary school passengers as a new stray dog trots off to sit near some English people who are eating at a taverna table.

We tuck into village sausage, moussaka and Greek salad at Elizabeth's as the  accountant comes home from work in his big four by four, the errand boy shuffles past in bright green trainers and the painters and decorators unload their gear before heading for a siesta.

A van full of winter coats for sale is parked in the plateia. An English couple from an animal rescue charity walk with purpose and with funding, looking for cats to neuter.

And an old, gold Volvo estate carrying a coffin heads for the church, the bell tolling mournfully for a funeral later in the day.

Life, and death, go on.

And as the sun sets over Corfu Town, we feel a little sad as we look out from the stern of the ferry and see what we're leaving behind.

But the sadness is momentary. We will be back.

We're renting the house for another year.

That's about it.

Love Maddie x