Crete is really a country of its own. The White Mountains rise sharply behind the coast, deep gorges cut down through the limestone and olive groves cover the lower ground in a soft, silvery green. Some of the trees have been standing for a thousand years or more. Much of what eventually arrives at the Cretan table begins here, grown, gathered or pressed from a landscape that has fed island life for generations.

Olive oil the colour of new grass, wild greens picked from the hillsides, mountain honey, sheep’s cheese, tomatoes that actually taste of tomato. Meals are generous and made for sharing, often outside, often lingering, and rarely without a small carafe of raki appearing at the end whether you asked for one or not.

Eat well, move well. Walk the Samaria Gorge or follow quieter shepherds’ paths into the White Mountains, cycle through olive country, swim from coves where the water runs almost turquoise over the pale stone. Then find a beautiful spa or a restorative programme to draw it all together. In Crete, the things that keep you well have always belonged in the same day.