Driving down to Greece this spring with a car full of bits for Skylax was a bit of a shock to the system. It was the first time we had done this for a number of years, and the long days behind the wheel were a bit jarring after our normal pootling around southern England.

We were soon reminded that it requires a reasonably robust driving style to hold your own on continental motorways.

On the back of a lorry, I spotted a sticker: ‘Be Kind’ it began. I missed the small print as we were already a bit close for comfort, but the image stuck.

Our stopovers varied hugely, and ranged from a basic motel to a beautiful chateau. The only thing that was consistent was the warm welcome we received everywhere, and the desire to share with us the wonderful food of their region.

We ate like kings; these people had clearly got the memo!

We took a slight detour to take in a stop with some friends who live in France, and who keep their yacht in Greece. They updated us on the repair works to their boat, made necessary by an incident in an Ionian harbour last autumn.

They were safely moored up, when a catamaran attempted to squeeze into an unfeasibly small gap between them and the next boat. Now, our friends often go out of their way to help others and would have gladly tried to accommodate these prospective neighbours had it been possible, but on this occasion fitting two hulls into a berth for one just wasn’t going to work, and something had to give.

Sadly, it was their flagstaff and pushpit (they were bows-to) which bore the brunt. The red-faced skipper eventually returned and offered apologies, but the damage was done. He was in a rush to secure a berth for the first night of his family sailing holiday, wasn’t familiar with the handling of a catamaran, and he just hadn’t thought things through.

Many moons ago we sailed into Roccella Ionica, on the south coast of Italy. As we pulled into our berth, we could see a chap waving on the adjacent boat but, unusually, no one came to take a line. No bother – there was no wind, and the finger pontoon made things easy. We slipped into the berth and said hi to our new neighbour.

It was then that we saw the wheelchair on the pontoon and things became clear. He invited us for sundowners, and over the course of the evening we learned much on how sailing with a paraplegic skipper works.

He and his wife were an amazing couple who didn’t let much get in the way of doing the things they wanted to achieve. They had fitted out the yacht to their specs – themselves – and then they sailed down to the Med.

Previously they had built their own house, oh and run it as a bed and breakfast, and their latest plan was to decamp to New Zealand to start a winery! The one thing this skipper couldn’t do was rush down to the quay to take lines.

The fact is, we never know what other people are dealing with. Happily, 99 times out of 100 we enter a harbour and moor up with no problem. Sometimes, though, things will go wrong, but high revs and raised voices rarely solve the problem.

As the season reaches its peak, and harbours get busy, I hope we can all remember the little mantra from the back of the lorry and ‘be kind’ to each other.

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