Perhaps it was best I didn’t find any chocolate on my recent trip to Zakynthos (not the party part of the island as that life is behind me). The heat was intense – 39C at certain times, in certain places – making me sweat so profusely I looked like a smuggler trying to clear customs. I eyed up the Toblerone at the airport (I always eye up Toblerones in airports), but resisted. As for the uniform for the flight home, I didn’t get the memo: pastel neck pillows, seersucker shorts, cami tops and eyelashes that looked like plough trucks.
