I have been waiting for this moment for a long time, religiously watching my window every night and morning. Click the picture for more photos and videos of the fading colour scheme!

This video of the lighting scheme sums it all up:

We took a wonderful walk from Westminster to a church for filming. Jo Brand was one of the celebrity judges, keeping us all entertained during the breaks.

We rented an incredible go kart/buggy that we named ‘Herbie’. It was uncomfortable, noisy, featured only one gear and half of its essential parts did not work. It was also incredibly fun, very low to the ground, a little too outrageous to be true and could accelerate faster than most things on the road. Sat side by side with the intense breeze cooling us down we both agreed it was the perfect way to explore this beautiful island. I have only ever cried out a genuine heart felt “yeee-haaa” once before and that was on a jet ski in Vietnam.

Upon collecting the beast it would not reverse, had two suspiciously flat tires, a handreak that did precisely nothing, wing mirrors which did not reflect and dials that could not be read. “It fine! Good vehicle, always work, no problem!” assured the man, shiftily pumping up the tires and altering things with a screwdriver, before handing us a number to call “if problem”. With our heart in our mouths and our faith in the ‘good’ vehicle that ‘always works’ we set of down the main road clinging to the edges as coaches thundered by.

We soon got off the beaten track and it was only after Katie had the idea of jamming stones under the wheels that we could could leave the vehicle without fear of it falling down a cliff/into a car/running (wheeling?) away. But of course Herbie loved us and would not do the latter

And Herbie did prove to be a robust if slightly un-roadworthy (at least by British standards) machine, whisking us around terrain and road with shaky and rattling ease.

We visited three beaches including the two best of the holiday – unspoilt, secluded and pure white sand with good waves. We picknicked on feta, olives, watermellon, lemons and bread, mostly collected from over-generous restaurant portions throughout our stay.

One beach required us to drop down a cliff negotiating steep hairpins overlooking magnificent views. Great stuff.

We then drove to the end of the island and the beautiful landscaped resort of Kefalos against a backdrop of impressive mountains. To get to the centre of Kefalos we had to tackle a far steeper hairpin; this time I doubted poor Herbie’s torque, and there was no lower gear to rescue us, so it was peddle to the metal, tightened fists on the steering wheel as we screached around, only just making it.

On the way back to Tigaki we stopped off at the remains of a hugely impressive castle bolted to a magnificent cliffside.

After freshening up we drove up the mountains to stunning village of Zia which was certainly inside the top five pituresque settlements I have visited around the world.

With sweeping views around the island we watched the sun disappear into a hazy balm over a taverna feast.

Vine leaves encircled the open air restaurant and as the light faded the lush greens of the mountainside were proudly illuminated in an array of colours.

We browsed the local crafts before wandering back to Herbie. Surprisingly her lights worked perfectly and we could even read the backlit dials as we slowly descended back to the hotel.

• Photoset of driving around island
• Photoset of Sunset at Zia
• Video of driving up to Zia

…………………………………………………………….

The misleading, money grabbing, cost cutting scoundrels of First Choice (my anger has subsided as I write this) failed to inform us at the point of booking that our last night’s accomodation was NOT included in the price and furthermore they did not have anywhere for us to stay. They suggested getting drunk in a bar to while away NINETEEN and a half hours (Hotel chucked us out at 11am, flight was not till 7.30am the NEXT morning.) I was livid.

Every cloud has a silver lining and in this case that line took the form of a lovely air conditioned room which we booked for only €35. It was a comfy and pleasurale end to a wonderful holiday.

Upon arriving we took a bus tour, first up to a hill with six dis-used windmills. Views of the Bodrum harbour were breathtaking and also over the other side to Gumbet, which means ‘water system’ in Turkey. A solitary camel lay at the top of the hill minding its own business.

Bodrum harbour was very classy with yachting clubs, posh boats and ‘real’ designer boutiques. The bus then took us to Gold Centre where we were persuaded to spend thousands of euros on a piece of jewellery. We didn’t. We then went to some of the famed bazaars, quite excited as to what we might find. Sure enough it was a high octane and intense affair. If you so much as cast a slight glance at any product on any stall – quite difficult to avoid- you were hounded like I have not experienced anywhere in the world. “No I don’t want to try on a bloody thick hoody when it is 37 degrees and my body is wetter than a fish”

We escaped with 17kg of apple tea, in the form of a suspicious looking white powder, Turkish delights and great looking spice set with grinder.

Overall I was quite disappointed. The bazaars and most of the shops in the centre could be categorised into about 7 different types all selling exactly the same goods. Not a patch on many of the exotic markets one can find in London.

We climbed up a grassy bank up to the castle for more magnificent views and some great looking outdoor nightclubs in the grounds which would put even the superclubs in Ibiza to shame.

The intense heat prohibited us from being ouside any longer, even in the shade, so we headed for a marina-front bar which, rather ingeniously had fine cold spray coming out of pipes all around the tented roof. Great fun and well worth staying for beer number two.

Back at our hotel I sat by the pool for the first time. Felt really tired and lethargic, the bazaars having sapped my energy. Some most friendly waiters served our evening meal, and six of them stayed late waiting for us to finish. The cut-throat nature of the English industry would not allow such a thing, but I suppose that is the price you pay for living in an overcrowded yet very successful country.

We then headed to the beach for a midnight relax on the sunbeds – we didn’t have to pay this time Looking up at the stars and watching the Tigaki buzz from afar was a serene experience.

I enjoyed reading the paper and learning that David Beckham might even coach a GB United football team in 2012. Surely this will never materialise. I hope I am proved wrong.

As probably our least productive/most relaxing? day of the holiday sucked in the sun we headed back to the hotel and again enjoyed olives, feta and the gorgeous humous we salvaged from the restaurant two days ago.

Like every night we heartily played cards on the balcony. The tally stood at six wins each, suggesting luck plays the most important role, but who believes in probabilty anyway…?

Headed out for the most picturesque surroundings of a meal so far. Fountains, open air stars, turtles(!) and basil plants accompanied our average meal.

I am starting to get disillusioned with the house wine in Kos which is consistently poor, watery and certainly not dry, as purported on the menus.

We even tried to order wine not of the house variety and were told there wasn’t any!

It was incredibly hot around Kos Town and the beaches were too much for me. I spent the day under an umbrella whilst Katie updated her tan. I was happy reading my Times, the only broadsheet available, and filling myself with British pride. At this stage we were third in the Olympic medal table. Oh yes.

Biked around the Kos Town harbour and then back home along the main road. Exercise!

Before heading out of the evening we munched on olives, feta and gorgeous taverna humous from the night before.

Sunday night was party night hosted by our friendly Welsh rep Jacky. I decided this would be the night I would test the local oil to its full potential. Many beers, coctails and even a naughty absinthe followed.

Trying to wear off the alcohol through elaborate excercise in the form of solitary dancing and a midnight baked potato failed to normalise myself for the next day in which I was feeling rather sick