And so it was that Friday 30^th April came at long last, and I performed my final act as a member of the corporate rat-race. I emptied my personal belongings from my company car, and handed the keys over to the nice man from the car leasing company, who then inspected it for damage, gave me a receipt and drove away...

When he'd gone I did a pathetic little dance round the front room, rejoicing in the fact that I now no longer had a car... or a job... or any income. Perhaps the insanity is finally getting a hold of me at long last...

Tracy was sure that I would be feeling “odd” but I wasn't. I was just relieved that I'd finally reached the point I'd been looking forward to all those years ago when we decided to go round the world, when I would hang up my “smart but casual, corporately-acceptable, same-as-everyone-else” shirts and chinos and know that the following day, week or month I would not have to put them on again unless I chose to. Ok, so I'm not heading off round the world, but I am heading into the unknown of another adventure, one which I genuinely have no idea where it will take me. Sure, I've planned a few things, such as trying to qualify as a motorcycle instructor and hoping to get the funds together to buy a smallholding, but as I so often say, plans are just a vague idea of the direction to head and the expected stops on the way...

The first of which for Tracy at least was Keele University, as she now had to take Carlie back, her large collection of belongings too big to fit on my bike... That meant I got to stay at home and clean the house, which I was more than happy to do, as we wanted to leave it clean and tidy in case the estate agent wanted to show someone round whilst we were away. To mark the end of one lifestyle and the start of the next, Tracy and I had booked a week's holiday in Greece (hence the title), or more accurately, on the Ionian Island of Kefalonia, just off the west coast of Greece. We'd booked a villa in the peaceful town of Trepezaki, with its own pool. With a couple of good books to read and a decent weather forecast it looked very promising indeed.

The flight was, as they always seem to be, very early. Getting up at 3am on the first day of my new life wasn't quite what I had in mind, but getting up early to go to somewhere new is much more motivating than getting up to catch the red-eye train to London, so I wasn't complaining. After a short drive to the airport we checked in our luggage and grabbed a coffee and croissant for breakfast, and didn't have to wait too long to board. The plane was half empty too, which made for a reasonably pleasant 3 hour flight to the small airport on the island. I say pleasant flight, which it was for me, but I think some of my fellow passengers may have disagreed as I woke myself up snoring at one point!

At the airport we were met by the local representative of Greek Options who gave us the all-important map and introduction to Greek life (vague instructions like “don't put the toilet paper in the toilet, use the bin provided”). A short stroll to the car hire place and we were kitted out with our wheels for the week, a left-hand drive (naturally) Fiat Punto. Luggage stowed in the boot, and with me sitting on the wrong side and Tracy confused as to where the steering wheel had gone, we kangaroo-hopped out of the car park and up the hill, whilst I tried to get my right hand to change gear. I soon got the hang of it, which is just as well, as the roads towards the villa were tight and very winding, but thankfully free of traffic. But it was hard to concentrate on the road as our surroundings were so beautiful. The sun was out in a pale blue sky as we climbed up the mountainside in a series of switchbacks, passing beautiful little villas painted in pastel shades of pink and orange and yellow, or dazzlingly brilliant white, with cascades of flowers tumbling from railings and trailing down garden walls. The mountainside was covered in small deep green trees interspersed with huge white rocks and dotted with yet more villas. There was hardly anyone about, this being the May Day Holiday (celebrated here on the 1^st of the month regardless of which day of the week it falls on), but we managed to find a mini-market open where we could get some initial supplies to see is through the day. Some tuna, pasta, tomato and basil sauce, a rotten onion (replaced at a later mini-market with a fresh one), water, wine and beer. Before long we had found our way to our villa, halfway up the hillside and in a secluded location surrounded by olive trees. A short dirt road and we were parked up at our front door, the key in the lock clearly showing we were expected. The 3 other villas in the row were unoccupied and didn't have their keys showing, so clearly we were going to have the run of the place. And what a place. The villa is small but airy, with a small kitchen including a cooker (electric, sadly!), fridge (into which the beer and wine quickly went to cool down), dining area, double bedroom and small bathroom with shower, basin and w.c. Out back is the balcony with a table and chairs, looking down over the swimming pool and distant views towards the coast below. Just perfect...

That afternoon we took a short drive round to familiarise ourselves with the local area, before returning to our hide-away where I rustled up dinner using the ingredients we'd bought earlier. Sat out on the balcony chatting in the early evening sunshine whilst the birds sang their evensong was a perfect way to end my first day of freedom...

Day 2, Sunday, and after breakfast we went for a drive round to explore the southern coast of the island. By now I was getting used to driving the car whilst sat on the wrong side and changing gear with the wrong hand, so could spend a little more time admiring the view. And what views. The road to Skala clung to the side of the mountain high above the sea affording fantastic vistas, the bright blue sea contrasting perfectly with the deep green hillsides and bright villas. Once again the weather was perfect, the sun beating down from a completely cloud-free sky warming our bones and driving away the Winter blues. How I wish England still had the summers of my youth... As this is the very start of the season the resort towns of Skala and Poros were almost empty, with just a few of the tavernas open, and the beaches clear of the hordes of sunseekers that come here in the height of the summer to bake in the heat. There were a fair number of roadworks along the coast road, half of which seemed to have disappeared completely to be replaced by sandy potholes. The little Punto clattered and banged its way through them as I tried my best to avoid the worst ones whilst also avoiding the oncoming local traffic, the warnings of the quality of Greek driving still ringing in my ears. When we arrived at the port town of Poros it was lunchtime, and never one to knowingly miss a meal, we stopped at a taverna on the quayside and took a table as much in the sun as possible. Now, we had read something about how the Greek's like to eat, ordering a few appetizers and sharing them, so rather than order a main course, that's what we did. We ordered a plate of fried mushrooms, some grilled sweet peppers, a Greek salad, some fries, a plate of calamari and some fried shrimp (which the waitress told us were very small as it was still early in the season). When the first dishes started to arrive we realised our mistake – the appetizers, which we'd expected to be the size of tapas, were in fact, huge. And covered in olive oil and oregano. But the mushrooms were delicious, as was the salad, and when the shrimps came piled high on a plate they were just perfect. The calamari was good too, albeit still in very large chunks rather than nice, small rings, making it a bit chewy; the sweet peppers were not so much grilled as drowned in oil, so they didn't get finished. Stuffed, we decided we needed to start heading back to the villa so we could rest and recover from the feast, and so that's what we did, with a short stop at another mini-market to get some more beer.

Day 3, Monday, and we had a visitor. Janice, the Greek Options representative popped by for her scheduled visit in the morning, and we quizzed her on where to go and what to see, mindful that we can't really sit still for days on end as neither Tracy nor I like being still for very long. When she'd left we had our week roughly planned out, or at least we'd identified a few things we wanted to do even if we hadn't put them in any particular order. First on the list was to head to the very northern tip of the island to Fiskardo. But before that, a little bit of history. Kefalonia is situated at the juncture of 3 tectonic plates - Eurasian which includes Italy, northern Greece and the Balkans; Turkish-Hellenic which carries southern Greece, the Aegean, Turkey and Cyprus; and the African Plate which supports most of the southern Mediterranean. Which means it is subjected to frequent and sometimes devastating earthquakes, as the plates collied and push against one another. In August 1953 there was a massive earthquake which destroyed much of the island, including the capital Argostoli and the towns of Lixouri, Sami, Skala and Poros. The north of the island, though, appears to be attached to the rest by a fault-line, so was largely spared, leaving Fiskardo and Assos the best places to go to see the island as it was before the quake.

The drive north took us past Argostoli and high up into the hills that rise straight from the sea, the road clinging to the hillside half-way up affording fantastic if slightly vertiginous views down to the water as it winds its way north. At one stage it headed inland slightly and on a short straight we saw our first pedestrian for several miles, an old chap ambling along who turned to face us as we approached. Giving him a wide berth I had to swerve even more to miss him as he stepped further into the road, holding his hand up in the International “HALT!” sign. I slammed on the brakes and came to an abrupt halt, wondering what the old boy wanted. Tracy wound her window down and he babbled something in Greek. “We're English” we both shouted in unison, adopting the classic British tactic of shouting at the locals so they would understand us. “Greek” he needlessly replied, before babbling on again. I caught something about “mille metre” and recognised he was now trying to communicate in Italian. Realising he simply wanted a lift a mile or so up the road I told him to get in (in broad northern English) and he clambered in the back. About a mile up the road he shouted “arretez” (or something like that) and I stopped, he clambered out and then offered “me casa... café?” which we politely declined before heading on our way. Stopping at his house for a coffee would no doubt have been an experience worth writing about, but the conversation would have been somewhat stunted, and to be honest, I think he was just being polite and doubt he really wanted two gormless tourists cluttering the place up.

Soon after dropping him off we found ourselves driving on a windy mountain road high above some spectacular looking beaches - including this one, Myrtos beach, which is much, much bigger than it looks from way up here!

When we finally arrived in Fiskardo it was getting close to lunchtime, and we were glad to park the car and get out for a wander. And what a jewel of a place we'd found. The small fishing port of Fiskardo was bathed in warm sunshine, the bleached stone of the quayside reflecting the heat upwards as we strolled out from the narrow shopping alley into the port proper. Around the quayside were a number of tavernas with endless rows of empty tables and chairs laid out ready for the season to start. As we are here so early in the season, we had the place almost to ourselves, and chose a bar on the basis of it having the most comfortable looking seats, not because it had one free table. No sooner had we sat down than we were served with the cold beer we'd ordered. I bet this place is completely different when full of hordes of holidaymakers but just now it is so quiet and peaceful it really is paradise. We toasted our freedom again, and ordered lunch, then sat chatting and watching the fish swimming in the crystal clear water and the fishing boats gently bobbing up and down. Relaxing? Oh, yes!

Lunch was superb, a crisp tuna salad for me, and a toasted sandwich for Tracy, but with a long drive back I avoided a follow-on beer, knowing that one leads to two, leads to three and then trouble. After lunch we took a stroll around the town, bought a couple of postcards and the inevitable fridge magnet, and then headed back to the car park. With the afternoon now almost gone we abandoned our ambitious plan to go to Assos, saving that for another day, and headed back to the large supermarket at Argostoli to get some more supplies before heading back to the villa.

Whilst we sat in the early evening sun drinking ouzo (well, I did, it's like Pernod but not as nice), we heard the clanking of cattle bells close by and went to investigate. Out the front of our villa there was a small flock of sheep and goats, chomping their way through the low-hanging leaves on the tree under which I'd parked the car, whilst the tanned and leather face of the shepherd watched, leaning on a tall hooked staff of the “Mary had a little lamb” kind. We exchanged smiles whilst I grabbed some pictures of his animals, before retreating into the villa once more.

Day 4, Tuesday and another beautifully sunny day here in Kefalonia. After yesterday's long-ish drive we decided that today we'd try and avoid our addiction to travelling and simply spend the day relaxing by the pool at the villa. Which proved to be quite easy, as the sun was quite warm and we both had books to read...

We did pop out briefly to get some supplies from the shop for our healthy lunch of tuna salad, and of course to replenish our diminishing stocks of cold beer and white wine. The local wine, made just over the hill behind our villa is called “Robola” and is a dry white and quite palatable. After our healthy lunch the afternoon was much like the morning, as we soaked up the heat from the sun and read our books. A perfectly relaxing day.

That night, though, Tracy felt the earth move. Or more accurately would have done, if she'd woken up in time. When Janice, the rep, came to see us, she mentioned that there had been a small earthquake (tremor, really) on Saturday night, but neither Tracy nor I had felt it. In the middle of Tuesday night I was woken up by the bed shaking. Initially I thought Tracy had a dose of St Vitus' Dance, but she was asleep. The earth was most definitely shaking, so I woke her up, by which time it had stopped. Good job she's got a sense of humour, that's all I can say...

Day 5, Wednesday and what has happened to the sun? Did we wear it out yesterday by absorbing too much of its heat? Ah, well, at least it's only overcast and not raining. And it's still relatively warm!

Our plans for today are to get out and explore. Neither Tracy nor I are capable of sitting still for days on end, preferring to get out and about and explore the island. So we jumped in the car and drove back up past Argostoli and then taking the turn off to Lixouri just past the point we'd dropped our suicidal hitchhiker off a couple of days before. Kefalonia island is almost split into 2, with a large peninsula hanging down on the west coast, attached to the main island by a short stretch of land north of the capital. It was across this stretch we now drove, the island taking on a different look as the huge hills gave way to more gentle rolling hills with pasture-land between them and the sea. Turning right we headed up to the north of the peninsula and a remote beach marked on our map. This turned out to be remote indeed, with just the one road leading to and from a small horseshoe-shaped inlet that wasn't so much beach as a place for the local fishermen to come ashore for a while. Heading back south and then across the hills that form the backbone of the peninsula and onto the western-most edge of the island the scenery changed again, back to rocky mountains moulded by millennia of waves crashing against the rocks to form several beaches, some of which have been turned into tourist resorts, but this being Kefalonia these are pretty low-key, and others just left as shingle-covered beaches ideal for playing pirates on...

Janice had told us about a fantastic and unique Taverna on the beach at Vasta, so we set off to try and find it. Bear in mind we had no GPS and the only map we had was a very large-scale one from the car hire company. Several wrong turns including a few miles on dirt roads later we eventually found it, nestled in its own spot right on a sandy beach looking out over the Med. It must be quite a spot in the height of the season, but now, there was just one other family there. Oh, and a family of ducks.

Sat at a table with our seats on the sand we ordered some food, this time resisting the temptation to order too much. The “king size fried prawns” sounded good, and they were. Both good and king sized...

Suitably full once more we drove back down the coast and round the southernmost tip of the peninsula and then back up to the town of Lixouri which gives its name to the peninsula. Like the capital Argostoli the town was completely destroyed in the 1953 earthquake, and so has been rebuilt in the same style as the other towns on the island, the buildings all painted in pastel shades and constructed from concrete giving them the look of lego houses, all straight angles and smooth surfaces. A quick drive round failed to reveal anything worth exploring at length, so we drove to the dock and waited for the ferry to arrive. We could have retraced our route by road, but the promise of the ferry for the measly price of 8.60euros was too good to miss. The wind had picked up and the crossing looking like it might be interesting, and as the ferry pulled into port it listed heavily one way then the other, which caused Tracy to look a little green and we'd not even boarded yet. As it was, whilst there was a fair old swell and a lot of wind, it wasn't a problem and we laughed whilst re-enacting the “Top of the World” scene from Titanic on the empty upper deck whilst our fellow passengers sensibly sat in the indoor cabin or stayed in their vehicles.

Back on dry land it was a short drive back to the villa where we rustled up some more pancakes so we could exploit the fresh lemons that had fallen from the tree (honest!) outside our villa. Delicious...

Day 6, Thursday thankfully dawned bright and sunny again, and we had another day's exploring ahead of us. With the port of Sami our initial destination, where ferries from the Greek mainland bring large numbers of tourists to the island in the high season. This involved driving across the mountain passes and past the island's most famous monastery, Ag Gerasimos, and past the Robola vineyards which cover a valley between the 2 mountain ridges.

On arriving in Sami we explored the port, watching the fishermen repairing their nets, before choosing one of the many cafés to sit and enjoy a Greek coffee whilst sat watching the world go by.

Finally we managed to drag ourselves away and we drove up the hill at the back of town to look at the ruined "acropolis", which turned out to be just a few shaped rocks piled up and with modern scaffolding holding them in place as the site is restored. But we did have some excitement on the way up as we saw a large snake slithering across the road...

A little further up the hill from the acropolis was the ruins of an old monastery, with a spectacular view down over Sami from the old bell, which was suspended between 2 sticks and irresistable (hope the locals didn't think there was a service about to start!)...

After that excitement we headed just north of the town to the underground cave of Melissani. The cave is entered by boat on the small lake that runs through the cave, the first part of the journey in blinding sunlight since the roof of the cave collapsed many years ago. As the boats edged gently into the gloom of the cave we marvelled at the strange shapes made by the stalactites hanging from the walls and ceiling, and then our boat was turned round and we were padded back into the sunlight. Well worth the 7euro entrance fee.

Next on our sightseeing agenda for the day was a trip to the top of the tallest mountain on the island, Mt Ainos which stands at 5,341ft (Ben Nevis, is only 4,409ft). Now, we've not suddenly become keen mountaineers and my days of tramping up high mountains are somewhat in the past (for now!), so we took the road. Which according to the guide book runs out at the edge of the National Park, although from there it continues as one that is “suitable for 4x4s”. Or hire-car Fiat Puntos. After we'd taken a short walk and concluded there was still a fair way to go, we got back in the car and continued on the bumpy dirt road right up to the summit. The little Fiat Punto equipped itself reasonably well, and when we reached a point very close to the top where I could turn round and park, we got out and clambered over a small hill to where the view over the west coast of the island was breathtaking (literally, it was damned windy that high up!).

Walking across the road and up a small hill on the other side afforded a view over the east coast of the island and on to the island of Ithaki, although the heat-haze meant the view was obscured a little...

After admiring the view and convincing Tracy it was safe to scramble up for a look (she doesn't like heights), we got back in the car for the bumpy ride back down the mountain...

Once we'd regained tarmac once more we threaded our way down the mountain to the main road again, only to come across a herd of goats that were lazily wandering across the road and clambering on the rocks at the roadside. They made our attempts to scramble up the rocky hill at the top of the mountain look decidedly poor, as they stood, sure-footed on vertical rock. Wish I could work out how they do that...

Day 7, Friday and our last full day on Kefalonia once again dawned bright and sunny but a little blustery. Taking the advice of the tour rep, we had one last place to visit, the beautiful little town of Assos. Situated on the west coast to the north of the island above the Lixouri peninsula, this little town rests at the bottom of a large hill between the main island and a big rocky outcrop. Atop the outcrop are the ruins of a Venetian fortress which is reached by a road that winds its way steeply up to the summit. Only it's a pedestrianised road, so we parked the car and set off up in the heat of the sun, walking slowly and stopping every now and then to admire the view down towards the town of Assos and it's little harbour.

Once we finally arrived wheezing at the summit, the ruins were almost a disappointment, just a few dilapidated walls gradually being subsumed by the vegetation. But the views were beautiful, and more than made up for the exertion of the walk up. I was also getting ready for lunch, and the promise of the local delicacy, the “Kefalonian Meat Pie” was high on my list. When we got back to the town we chose a likely-looking Taverna by the water's edge and ordered a beer, then studied the menu. No pie. Damn. But I had my heart (and appetite!) set on one, so we paid up and wandered round the bay, looking at the menus of all the other Tavernas before finally finding one that listed the infamous dish. No sooner were we sat down that I accosted the waiter and asked if they had the delicacy, preparing to make a hasty exit and drive over to Sami if they didn't. “But of course” was his reply with a smile, so we ordered another beer and I placed my order for pie, Tracy opting for some meatballs. I suppose I now need to describe the Kefalonian Meat Pie. Well, it's a pie, so it has a pastry crust, and is filled with rice and lamb, the rice quite spicy and similar to a risotto. It's certainly odd, but very nice all the same, and very filling too...

After lunch we wandered through the beautiful little town and found a nice house for sale... what do you think?

Day 7, Saturday and time to get packed ready to fly home. Whilst we've both really enjoyed our break, we much prefer travelling to being in one place, and a week in one place is about all we can stand, so we're ready to move on, even if it is back to the cold and wet of England in Spring. Unsurprisingly we were up early and packed quickly, then cleaned up the villa before loading the car. With over an hour to kill before we were due at the airport we drove up to see St George's castle, which sits proudly atop one of the hills nearby, only to discover it was closed (and doesn't open until June, apparently). So we drove on to Argostoli for a wander across the Dhrapano Bridge, which was originally built of wood in 1813 before being replaced by the stone version that exists today some 26 years later. In the middle is a stone column constructed by the British when theuy ruled the island between 1809 and 1864...

Then it was time for us to drive the few miles back to the airport and hand the car back before checking in for our flight. As the airport is very small we were not allowed through passport control until the flight was almost ready for boarding, which at least meant we could go back outside and sit in the sun for an hour or so. Then it was time to board and fly back home...