For the first time in many months, we are living on land again.

It has only been four days since we moved into our little Greek house, but it feels as though we have stepped into a completely different rhythm of life.

The transition itself was far from simple. This was not a two week holiday where you throw a few clothes into a suitcase and head off. We had to move our lives. School materials, work equipment, a mountain of laundry, food from the fridge and freezer, and all the little things that make daily life function on board. It felt like a proper relocation.

At the same time, it was haul out day for Simon Hendrick, which is always exciting and a little nerve wracking. This boatyard was completely new to us, so we did not quite know what to expect. On top of that, we removed the rigging for the first time. Because we have an issue with the furler, the forestay had to come off anyway, but it was still one of those jobs that feels bigger in your head than it probably is in reality.

Fortunately, everything went smoothly.

Once Simon Hendrick was safely positioned ashore, Phi and I headed to our temporary home while Edwin stayed behind to oversee the next steps.

And what a welcome awaited us.

Time and time again, we find ourselves amazed by the kindness of the Greek people. After almost a year here, we still have not encountered the other side that people sometimes talk about. Every Greek we meet seems genuinely willing to help. Things may not always happen immediately, but they happen. People are reliable, generous and genuinely caring.

I often joke that Greeks believe in karma without ever using the word.

Recently, someone explained to me that although the Greek Orthodox faith may appear strict from the outside, at its heart it is about love. Perhaps that is exactly what we feel here. A quiet, natural way of caring for others.

When Phi and I arrived at the house, that feeling was everywhere.

An extra bed had been arranged for Phi without hesitation. The fridge was stocked with cold drinks. A bottle of wine for us, juice boxes for her. Fresh lemons from the garden were waiting on the counter. There was coffee, tea, chocolate and little sweets. The bathroom was fully prepared with amenities for all three of us.

It felt like arriving at a luxury hotel, except it was warmer, more personal and somehow far more meaningful.

The house itself is exactly what we had hoped for. It has everything we need and nothing we do not. It is unmistakably Greek. White walls, charming imperfections and pieces of family history woven throughout the interior. Old furniture that tells stories. A comfortable bed. A place that immediately feels welcoming.

Since arriving, we have settled into a completely new routine.

Each morning, I become the taxi driver, taking Edwin to the boatyard. Phi and I then return home for school. We prepare lunch and drive back to the yard to eat together and hear about the progress of the day.

In the afternoons, Phi and I usually disappear to a nearby beach, giving Edwin the space he needs to focus. The work he is doing right now requires a lot of concentration. Much of it involves the engine and damage repairs, jobs that need patience, careful thinking and a step by step approach.

From the outside it may seem as though Edwin is doing all the hard work while Phi and I are enjoying ourselves.

Sometimes it even feels that way to me.

But I am slowly learning that supporting, organising and creating the conditions for someone else to focus is work too. While he is repairing the boat, I am keeping our temporary life running. School, meals, planning, shopping, logistics and a very lively little girl who needs attention throughout the day.

It is a different kind of work, but it matters just as much.

Phi, meanwhile, is thriving. For her, this feels like a holiday. She loves having a little house, a proper bed and space to play. Seeing her so happy makes the adjustment much easier.

Leros helps too.

It is a beautiful island and a wonderful place to spend these weeks. Even when the days feel busy, the surroundings remind us to slow down and appreciate where we are.

Now, after a few days, it feels as though we are finding our feet again. We are getting used to life on land.

And quietly, almost secretly, we are already counting down the days until 10 June.

Because if all goes to plan, Simon Hendrick will return to the water, and with her comes the freedom, adventure and familiar rhythm of the sea that has become our home.

Sometimes you have to step ashore to appreciate how much the sea has become part of you.