I have been clinging to my status as a bridge beginner for the last 20 years, to avoid being bullied by my bridge-mad husband into serious games where you are not allowed to ask what 2 clubs means and someone tells you off when you forget how many trumps there are in a pack. The annual bridge week in a Greek villa though with friends and family is the only time I break my rule. 12 people (4 tables) and a madly funny and charming teacher called Charlie Hunter swim and sunbathe, water-ski , hike the hills and groves in the mild sunshine, fish for octopus and sea-urchin, go on boat trips during the day to enjoy the deserted bays and beaches, and then, as the autumn evenings draw in and a slight chill rises from the water, we light the olive-wood fire, pull out the wine, deal the cards, turn on the music, and settle down for a long night of hysterical laughter and variable bridge until two in the morning. We decided that there was real money to be made for anyone presenting themselves as a “bridge therapist”, to coach couples who find it hard to play at the same table – this would have the fringe benefit of solving many marital problems too. So next year, there will be 12 people, Charlie and a therapist. Those interested in interviewing for the post, please apply to Five Star Greece. Charlie’s wife is first in line for an appointment, I am next.