We first came to this island on holiday in 2002. I was so bewitched by its beauty and character that I couldn't live without it. So began our journey of finding a piece of land, designing a couple of homes, giving up work, moving here, building those homes and settling in.

Today I took the bus into town to finalise the details of my settling back out again, leaving everything that we built up over 13 years to my estranged spouse. The island's beauty is still as bewitching as it ever was so it's hardly surprising that once more I was reduced to tears. The very kindly young bus conductor, who can't have been more than six years old when we arrived here to live, noticed my distress and asked if I was alright. I explained that I had lived here for thirteen years and he went to fetch me a tissue. More tears and another tissue.

How is it that a total stranger can be so gentle and understanding when a life partner of 27 years can be so blind and obtuse?

My appointment with the lawyer, the public notary and the official independent translator, at an office on the ring-road, went well, and afterwards the lawyer gave me a ride back into the centre of town on the back of his little scooter. We had a coffee together and spoke of Tsipras, Europe, Brexit and the unequal division of wealth.

This was the table at which we sat. Amazing what can be achieved with several coats of enamel paint and an abrasive disc. Perhaps I shan't be making that Moroccan tiled table after all, this one looks a great deal easier.