My straw hat is squashed in the overhead locker and I’ve wrapped a scarf around my bare legs to keep warm – we’re definitely going home!

After almost two months living in the “med” we will soon be landing back in England, where I may be in need of that jacket I decided not to pack.

Our time onboard yacht Riou came to a close with a rather dramatic storm in the end. On our penultimate night afloat, we watched a red sun sink behind distant blue islands, while we spent a peaceful night as the only boat anchored off one of our favourite uninhabited islands. But it wasn’t long before the rest of Greece woke up and joined us. A morning walk on the deserted beach had been too good to last. By lunchtime we were surrounded by dozens of boats which had anchored around us and flooded the untouched sand and crystal waters with day trippers.

As we headed into port for our final night, we were pleased to find a space on the jetty as the clouds began to gather. Later that night we listened to the wind howling round the rigging and heard the rain pelting against the hatches. It wasn’t long before I felt water dripping on my feet and we discovered a leak above us. We didn’t sleep so well that night, what with balancing bowls to catch the drips, securing extra lines in the dark and pouring rain “just in case”. This was the skipper’s job of course, while I watched from below and called out halfhearted offers of ‘do you need me to help?’ as gangplanks clattered and ropes squeaked on deck. There was lightening and thunder too – it turned out to be a loud and wet farewell to the Sporades. Although we were sad to leave, dragging our luggage through the rain made it a little easier to say goodbye as we headed to the airport.

We’ve now had time to rest and reflect during a week in Cyprus, revisiting favourite spots and renewing friendships, thanks to the hospitality of my sister and brother-in-law. It’s felt odd not checking the wind and forecast each day and swimming out from the beach, we’ve found ourselves looking for “our” boat.

“We’ve become land lubbers!” We said to each other as we strolled by the coast and stared out at white capped waves in the distance.

I’m not sure we like it…

Our return to the “homeland” feels even more sombre as the country is in mourning for our wonderful Queen. We were shocked to hear the news from a Turkish immigration officer, as we re-crossed the border into the south of Cyprus at the end of a day out. After being handed our passports last Thursday evening – the customs man had stared at us and simply said, “Queen dead.” It was hard to understand at first, until it sank in. His face was serious and he repeated the words – suddenly we realised it was our Queen he was talking about. The last time we’d seen a photo of her a couple of days earlier, she was shaking hands with our new prime minister – we couldn’t believe she had suddenly died.

So this week was a big moment in history for the UK and many across the world marking the end of the Elizabethan era and the dawning of a new one with a new King Charles – as he will now be known. Meanwhile, here we are marking the end of something too.

For now it’s ‘back to business’ or ‘busyness’ with work to catch up on, family to hug and help, a house to move into and boxes to unpack.

I’m happy to be heading home. I’m certain there will be many more adventures to come, both on and off the water. Next time though, I will be packing a jumper and rethinking short dungarees as travel wear! Brrr…