I had been hankering for Greek yoghurt – would it just be called ‘yoghurt’ in Greece? I made a mental note to add it to the list. I also hoped the shop on our next island stop of Ios sold muesli. I know I was travelling, and I probably should have been thinking about adopting some of the local customs, but I also knew what the Greeks had for breakfast. I wasn’t too keen about starting each day with Nescafé and a cigarette.

Toast and tea would have to do. I put the kettle on and put two slices of bread into the toaster. While I waited, I looked through all the cubbies for plates, mugs, spoons – the usual kitchen stuff. It wasn’t a large galley, so it didn’t take long to learn my way around.

‘Need some help?’ said a sexy American voice from behind me. Josh. I smiled over my shoulder and nodded. Not sexist and not lazy.

He took over toasting duties while I set about making mugs of tea. I hadn’t bothered asking if everyone wanted toast and tea for breakfast, because that’s all there was. Fifteen minutes later, we carefully climbed the ladder to the deck, him carrying a mountainous plate of buttered toast and me balancing a tray with mugs of tea, milk, and sugar. I was going to get nimble moving around this boat.

Marie had joined our breakfast club, emerging from her cabin a few minutes after Josh had come down. Everyone gratefully took a mug of tea and a piece of toast. It was quiet in the marina, and I could hear the gentle lapping of the water against boat hulls as we ate and drank in companionable silence. After we decimated the mountain of toast, the conversation turned to the day’s journey to Ios.

Duncan said it would take about four hours and then we’d have the rest of the day to chillax – his word, not mine – but I was all about some ‘chillaxing’ after that crappy night’s sleep. I was also looking forward to a nap, which I guessed fell under the whole chillaxing umbrella.

We wouldn’t see Gerry or Hannah until much later that morning, and Patricia wouldn’t emerge from her alcohol-induced coma until the afternoon.

*

‘Wanna steer?’ I looked up from my Kindle, which was sealed in a Ziploc bag for waterproofing, to see that Duncan was talking to me.

‘Really?’ I hadn’t known I’d get to steer the boat.

‘For sure.’ I looked over at Gary who nodded at me encouragingly.

‘Okay, yeah!’