I'm back! Have you missed me?

I am back at work this week after two weeks in the sun.

Despite Greece’s economic woes and the very real suffering of the vast majority of its people at the moment (anyone who saw Panorama last night will hopefully have been horrified at the effect the austerity measures are having on the Greek in the street) it remains a magical place to be and we had a wonderful time. We had wall to wall sunshine with temperatures averaging about 35 degrees in the day and 27 degrees at night (yes, we do have air con!). We did nothing for two weeks; the fortnight was incredible relaxing and the country remains vivid and full of life.

In contrast, the UK is dull, grey and to be honest, pretty grim. Yes, we do pageantry very well and the Jubilee weekend before we went away was marvellous, but when all the brocade and red coats have been put away this country seems nothing like as alive as many of its European counterparts. It is stiff, formal and varying shades of two colours only, grey and green. And is it just me, or does anyone else get sick of green? Green fields, green trees, green hedgerows, green mould on the garden wall and so on.

I like my landscapes to be shades of gold, brown and silver with splashes of colourful brilliance. Last week I was looking at towering brown and black mountains which fell down to a sea the shade of blue you see on a Jay’s wing, with frothy white foam where the two met. The olive tree leaves shone with a majestic silvery dark green where they caught the light, and several sported modest cream coloured flowers that were hidden amongst their branches like a shy maiden aunt flaunting the hem of her lace knickers. Oleander blossomed in flamboyant shades of pink, red and orange along the roadsides which kicked up clouds of golden dry dust when anything drove over them. Once or twice, I saw the iridescent green and gold of a lizard as it scuttled underneath a stone at our approach.

As we flew back towards Gatwick on Sunday, the colours became more and more muted. As we left France and flew across the English Channel, the cloud drew in and eventually we were flying through a visually impenetrable mass of white mist, which gave way to a ceiling of high grey cloud which has barely lifted since. We came from 35 degrees of heat to 11 degrees of murk. I hate it; I always do.

Familiar readers of this blog will know how much I dislike still having to work and how much I would love to go and live in Greece. As a country it may be in for a rough time over the next few years, but to me it is still the best place on earth and frankly if I must be poor, I’d rather be poor in the sun.

Of course, returning to work I have been subjected to the usual comments of “Have you been away?” due to my relatively light tan, which is due to the fact that I smother myself in factor 50 sunscreen because I burn, which then peels off instead of going brown. It would take me several weeks of short bursts of sunbathing (by which I mean no more than an hour a day) to go anywhere near the walnut colour some people manage to achieve in a fortnight, although I remain convinced that often that is sprayed on or is out of a bottle.

I am now counting down the weeks until I can go back again, which is late September. I have three months to make the best of it at home, which won’t be all bad with some nice things on the calendar. But already without the sun I am feeling down and all my niggling minor health issues are returning (tennis elbow, snuffly nose and more) and September cannot come soon enough.