Where ancient olive trees and heady jasmine grow and the sun's heat splits the dusty pavements.
Where the rugged coastline rises majestically from a sparkling sea.
Where the food is simple and fresh.
Where the inhabitants welcome you like nowhere I've ever experienced and make you feel beautiful.
Where I watched my two children put down their technology and unfurl like flowers in the sunshine.
Where I suddenly realised that my
sulky sultry son might, just might, be a bit of a babe magnet.
Where we snorkelled in turquoise waters and gawped at loggerhead turtles.
Where our days started at 9am and ended at 3am.
Where I was taught how to make a 'slippery nipple' cocktail by a wonderful man with a glint in his eye.
Where long periods of lying prone, baking in the sun, afforded me the opportunity to unclutter my mind and put life into some sort of perspective.
Where we made such special friends it took my ribs three days to stop hurting from laughing and three days to stop weeping when we had to wave goodbye.
The. Best. Holiday. Ever.