My first taste of an olive oil to savour came unexpectedly. Our old chartered schooner dropped anchor in the bay of Panormitis on the Greek island of Symi in the late afternoon. Baking against the arid hillside were a monastery, an olive grove and a rudimentary taverna, just a kitchen with a grapevine pergola to shade the tables, writes Marilyn Honikman .
You've gone grey, a long-time friend said looking at me in embarrassment. Perhaps he thought I had gone grey overnight. Not so. My silver-grey head of hair was 20 years in the making. ''You should talk to Jenny; she does something to her hair every week,'' he told me.