Kardamena with Pat and Chris...this holiday was going to be hard work. While packed with laughs and cruel banter, each day didn't vary much from a standard routine of wake up thirsty, drink, eat, moan, curse and then try and make it down to the beach by late afternoon. This was then followed by more food, watch some football, while away some time and then lo and behold - its the evening and another round of punishment.

With these types of holidays the first few days are great: everyone's keen; drinking loads and showing the young pups around how it's done. Party games were joined in with gusto though perhaps with a little too much gusto by Chris in the game of "Grab a partner and show how many sexual positions you know in a minute".

Chris started off like a sprinter, there went the doggie, then like a seasoned pro, the missionary while all the while the youngster next to him attempted to keep up. Two positions ticked off and only 5 seconds gone...surely we were looking at the winner?

However, stage fright gripped him in its iron grasp and Chris looked to his mates, eyes pleading for help. "Surely there can't be more than two sexual positions?" he thought. Of course, help was not offered so he stood up there shifting from foot to foot and repeating his two positions. Again. And again. His young lady was quite taken aback by this virgin behaviour from one so wizened and gestured to her friends that, "He's f***in' s**te, he is." Good old Chris. However, one young lady must have been impressed and took him under her wing.

It was almost a laugh a minute and there are too many tales to tell but 3 days of drinking was enough for me. I resorted to moaning and then morning vomiting by day 5. Not an unusual experience when with this couple of hardened drinkers. Breaking my tooth on a small bone in a Kleftiko by day 4 didn't add to my enjoyment either. It was either find the local butcher or wait till I got back to the UK. I elected for the latter.

Talking of broken teeth, I almost broke some more playing a version of musical chairs. I had progressed quite far by barging a lass off her seat just as she got there a split second before me. No matter - winning is all. The final round involved a race to the sea through a narrow strip of sand with sun beds on either side. The music stopped which was the cue to begin the race but I started at the back and had some ground to make up.

Desperate to win, I stumbled on the sand and fell to the floor. When I looked up my nose was centimetres from a sunbed. Needless to say, I lost the race. After this I then tried to apologise to the lass that I had sent sprawling but ended up apologising to the wrong person who had no idea what I was talking about. Chris and Pat, amused by my error smirked in the background and said nothing - then again, neither would I.

Uncultured bunch you may be thinking and you are probably right but I did manage to drag the chaps to Kos Town which has some Roman and Greek ruins. Chris wasn't keen but he was suffering with a huge hangover and him walking around while dehydrated in 30 degrees Celsius did give us some satisfaction. An interesting place, you can even see the alleged tree that Hippocrates taught under.