By comparison with Kastro, Vathy is a very ordinary village and makes no claim on antiquity although people have lived here for hundreds of years. Most buildings are classic white cubes with blue doors and shutters, pots of red geraniums on the step and wooden seats by the door. The houses spread out from the tiny dazzling white church from where the black robed, long bearded priest regularly emerges to stroll his beachside parish.

Only 20 people live in Vathy all year round but the population swells to 200 during the summer, augmented with day visitors arriving by bus and from anchored sailboats. There are only a couple of dozen foreign tourists, most are local Greeks who now work in Athens but still have a family house on the island.

Greeks who emigrate usually keep close links with their family home. One day a large wedding of third generation Greek/Americans brought the entire village out of their houses. The 250 guests descended on the village by mega-yacht or fancy car and milled around outside the little church of Taxiarchis, only capable of holding 25 - 30 people. After the service the guests trooped along the beach to a modern but traditionally styled hotel complex at the edge of the village. It was a bizarre sight to see men dressed in shirt and tie in dinner jackets but with their trousers rolled up and carrying their shoes as they paddled along the beach. But best of all was the bride, accompanied by mandolin and fiddle players, holding up her wedding dress, splashing through the surf and laughing hysterically.

Greece is full of vignettes like this. Around 2600 years ago Herodotus wrote about how great Sifnos was – ‘a rich island with gold and silver mines’, not so today, but it is still full of riches that are worth more than gold.

There’s not much to life in a Greek fishing village or perhaps it’s that all life is there. In such an intimate place that you soon get to recognise everybody who lives there - pregnant women, babies, toddlers, semi-wild children, teenagers, grizzled old men and grannies in their black widows garb.

So as I get ready to leave, I don’t seem to have done that much, although it feels like I’ve been here for an age; as if I’ve been more alive and that each moment has been indelibly etched on my re-awakened Greek soul.

The nearest bank and ATM is in the old capital of Apollonia and there’s a bus every few hours. Apollonia is a typical small Greek town with a single street, frantic with traffic, and a network of steep alleyways only accessible to donkeys or motorbikes. They are full of little bars and micro shops that have their deliveries made by well-laden donkey.

In the main street, cars are not so much parked as abandoned near or on the kerb. While talking to a shopkeeper there was a loud whistle from the street, she looked at me, put her hand up and ran out of the shop. Five minutes later she returned and said, “sorry, I had to move my car.” She explained that the police don’t ticket badly parked cars they just blow a whistle calling the owner to move them – how unbelievably civilised?

The policeman went to school with half the town and is related to the other half, so as soon as he’s gone everyone puts their cars back where they were – the law is enforced, honour is preserved and everyone parks where they want - and everyone is content.

A donkey track meanders from Apollonia down into a lush valley and then on to the islands ancient capital of Kastro. The path is partly paved but is old and broken, strewn with rabbit and occasional donkey droppings. The valley is beautiful but has an abandoned and uncultivated air; hill terracing, that cost tens of thousands of man-hours, now crumbles back into the hillside. Only the donkeys show any interest in the derelict olive groves and everywhere there’s the drone of bees and an almost overpowering scent of wild sage, thyme and oregano. The local windmill is now derelict and the few old houses with their classic triangular dovecotes of the Cyclades are also abandoned.

But the hilltop town of Kastro is a different world. It’s one of the islands jewels and is almost too pristine from the care that’s lavished on it. Gleaming white facades with vaulted arcades providing welcome shade and everywhere there are the scattered relics from a distant age. The houses were built backing defensively towards the sea as a fortification against marauding pirates and five gates give access to winding alleyways that lead back on themselves or into dead ends.

Yianni runs our favourite taverna; he lives in Athens during the winter and has only been back on the island since May. He loves to chat as its still surprisingly quiet in June. After a few pleasantries my Greek falters but Yianni’s English staggers along a bit further. Fortunately we’re both saved by his 7-year-old daughter Eleni who is the only person capable of holding an intelligent conversation with everyone in the taverna.

The rest of Yianni’s family have not arrived yet, so he cooks everything himself and says that nearly all his food comes from the island. A typical meal is a couple of shared starters – always a Greek salad, nothing like that served elsewhere in the world, the sweetest red onions imaginable, huge tangy slices of tomato, cucumber as succulent as a drink and topped with a massive wedge of feta cheese with a sprinkling of oregano.

The tzatziki might just be from a carton but the briam, chickpea balls, French beans, yellow peas, and calamari all come fresh from the kitchen. One jug of local retsina from a barrel is usually enough to accompany main courses of rabbit stiffado, lamb in the oven, meatballs, rooster in wine or souvalaki.

There are a few guidelines for identifying the best tavernas – obviously if local (as opposed to vacationing) Greeks eat there, if it’s a family run affair, if you’re welcome to visit the kitchen (Health and Safety regulations - pah!) and special offers or overly slick advertising is absent.

The village has two ‘mini-markets’ that provide all life’s essential requirements and very few pointless frills. They sell most things, like any typical supermarket, except everything is crammed chaotically into a 30-foot square room. At first they appear crazy and disorganised but eventually you come to view them as the most brilliant corner shops imaginable. If they don’t have what you want its invariably there the next day.

Arriving on Sifnos it was already blazing hot and the light dazzled unprotected eyes as it reflected off the gleaming whitewashed buildings – keeping them cool but blinding everyone else. The bustle of Kamares port is short lived as our taxi climbs straight out of the harbour into the scorched and barren hills.

I haven’t arrived on Sifnos to do anything specific, unless wallowing in the unique and palpable ambience of Greek island life is specific? Greek islanders are one of the most laid back people on the planet; so I’m not here to do things but I might practice undoing a few things.

As the taxi drives off, leaving us on the outskirts of the fishing village of Vathy, we stumble down an unmade lane towards the sea. Anna from a beachside taverna was expecting us and had the key our fisherman’s cottage. Perched on the edge of the Aegean I imagine the old fisherman having a lazy day and throwing a fishing line from the porch and pulling the fish straight out.

The stone built cottage wasn’t smart but had panoramic views across the deep horseshoe bay. To the right dazzling white cubic houses with powder blue shutters and doors climb back onto the pungent oregano, sage and thyme covered hillside. To the left beautifully soft sand stretches around the bay, partly shaded by Tamarisk trees and dotted with pink and white Oleander bushes.

Sitting on the porch the crystal clear waters lap its edge and the only other sounds are occasional church bells, a distant tinkle of goat bells, a murmur from the nearby taverna, occasional clanks from moored sailing boats and the all pervading drone of cicadas.

The bay is a popular harbour for sailing boats and different flotillas arrive every evening along with the occasional multi-million dollar yacht. Watching inexperienced sailors anchoring their boats and zigzagging ashore in overloaded dinghies is a major entertainment highlight.

Our favourite of the five beachside tavernas was Yianni’s and we ate there most nights. Every sunset was toasted with a couple of glasses of ouzo from the porch; the sun slipping behind the hills, as first the swifts then the bats swoop passed snatching unsuspecting and unwelcome insects from the evening air. Then we would stroll along the beach to Yianni’s.

Taverna’s are the hub of life in any Greek community: Grandma is usually in the kitchen, mum races around organising everything and takes the cash, the kids are waiting tables and dad is in charge of chatting to friends and neighbours and quality testing the homemade retsina or ouzo. No one expects to be served quickly, don’t necessarily anticipate being able to decipher the menu and don’t be foolish enough to think you’ll get exactly what you ordered. But, you’re breathing warm, fragrant evening air, feeling sand under your feet, gazing at more stars than you ever thought possible, listening to the sea murmuring close by and watching fishing boats twinkling in the dark — just chill out, what’s the hurry, this is Greece.

I sigh and flop into my seat on the 7.30am ferry from Piraeus to Sifnos, I now feel I’ve really arrived in Greece. The smart Athens airport and the would-be racing driver of the 96X shuttle bus could be anywhere else - but the port, with its dozens of ferries all lined up and raring to go, could only be Greece.

The inter-island ferry network is probably the most efficient and reliable service sector in Greece and weather permitting, they run like clockwork. They’re like a national bus service with routes that can take you to any island although you may have to change boats for a connecting destination. They’re not as quick as flying but are more spacious, much more interesting and much, much cheaper.

International ferry connections with Italy, Egypt, Israel and even Greece’s old adversary Turkey are possible. But Greek island hopping has a cache all of its own - on a par with visiting the Taj Mahal or trekking to Everest base camp but without the hassle or the effort.

Island hopping is easy, although a little daunting if you’re on a tight schedule – because they wait for no one. Some routes can be booked on the web, although the booking fee can cost more than the ticket or simply walk into one of dozens of ticket agents at every harbour and buy as you go.

I’m relaxing with a coffee on board Minoan lines ‘High Speed 1’ as it glides out of Piraeus on the dot of 7.30; it’s a hydrofoil, so it’s twice the price but takes half the time of a standard ferry. Within minutes we are cruising through the dazzling blue waters of the Aegean; passing Aegina with little fishing boats bobbing in our wake and barren uninhabited islets that make up Greece’s improbable total of 2,000 islands.

There’s a café, TV room, lounge and a business cabin but this is a ferry not a cruise ship; its part of the essential lifeblood of small island communities scattered over thousands of square miles of the Mediterranean. Dozens of trucks are crammed onto the lower deck - piled with building materials, food and household goods. Upstairs most passengers are equally laden with boxes, bags, but you’ve got to be impressed by the guy carting a fridge and the family struggling with various items of furniture.

All the Greek passengers seem to know each other, their kid’s race around like demented chickens, old men sit flipping their worry beads while others sprawl out to sleep the routine journey away.

Greece really is all things to all men; it has everything from the unsavoury and seriously down-market 18-30 resorts of Faliraki on Rhodes or Kavos on Corfu to luxury villas, hotels and multimillion-dollar yachts. But neither of these extremes of alcohol-fuelled debauchery or luxury seclusion is the real Greece.

A third of the population live in Athens but the heart of Greece is in the small island communities. Each is a little different but all have a common thread of culture that is impossible to mistake. The best way to identify an island that is likely to have retained its Greek culture and traditions is to check that no charters fly there. A small domestic airstrip is usually OK but even better if there is no airport at all and that means taking a ferry.

As our ferry pulls into Sifnos, part of the western Cyclades, trucks and passengers start spilling onto the quay within minutes. Vehicles and passengers jostle for precedence on the ramp, dodging each other in that refreshing but hair-raising ‘sort yourselves out’ attitude of Greece.

There’s a unique sense of bustle and excitement when boarding a night sleeper train, especially in a foreign country. I know it’s mainly down to the cultural imaginations of Agatha Christie and James Bond, but still, there’s a novel tingle of expectation.

My night train to Vienna left Krakow at 9.59 on the dot. My sole occupancy cabin was a 91-euro reservation/supplement and was good value as it saved a night’s hotel cost and ate up the miles to Vienna without my noticing it.

Once settled into my cabin I get off, like almost everyone else, and stare up and down the platform as if expecting a sudden last minute message or some forgotten lover to rush up to me. Clearly I’ve been watching too many old B/W films.

I lock my cabin door just in case some murder mystery adventure happens before Vienna - but it doesn’t.

There are few luxury frills on public night trains but I still find they are an excellent way to travel. The cabin was around 8 x 10 feet with a curtain to hide clothes and bags, two high shelves, a wall cabinet, a shelf with a sink and water within, electric sockets and reading lights. There was no dining car, because most people have recently had dinner and in-cabin refreshments consist of bottled water, an apple drink, croissant and a Mars bar.

The toilet is at the end of the carriage and I didn’t sleep deeply but dozed regularly, the real joy of a cabin is the privacy and the ability to stretch out and be comfortable.

Half an hour before we arrive the guard brings a wake up cup of coffee and then it’s Vienna - the city of Johann Strauss, elegant waltzes, dancing horses, Sachertorte, strudel and for me the best bratwurst ever.

Train travel has so much more to offer the traveller than simply getting from A to B; some train journeys are adventures in themselves, invariably generating good memories and they can be a vacation in themselves.

It doesn’t involve the tremendous hassle of airport queues nor does it have the monotonous uniformity of air travel where you’re anonymously processed like a piece of labelled cargo - strapped into a seat until you can be off-loaded.

I’ll take the train over the plane any day. Here are some useful tips:

InterRail have an excellent website for planning journeys and they can book necessary reservations for sleeper trains and high-speed routes. Non-EU residents buy a Eurail pass which is basically the same and has some useful advantages

Download the really useful InterRail planning app (and route map) which works on iPhone and Android devices and is great for checking times and routes whilst travelling

Planning pays off if you want a leisurely and comfortable trip, especially pre-booking at least the first nights accommodation at each destination

Use overnight trains to save on accommodation costs and minimise perceived travelling time, but there are supplements to pay

For short trips between destinations it may sometimes be sensible to take a bus or buy a local train ticket and save a rail pass travel day for longer journeys

Although you can usually take as much luggage as your like, its sensible to pack light and only take one bag to reduce transit hassle

Decent restaurant carriages are very rare so buy your favourite picnic food and drink for long journeys and skip the overpriced and invariably poor fare from the snack trolley

Whatever it is that you enjoy at home for relaxation - reading, music, games, films - take some with you for long journeys or station waitsYou can reserve seats at any station on your day of travel, but during high season (June-September) reserve seats as far in advance as possible if you need to travel on a specific train - especially French TGV, Thalys and sleeper trains

For maximum flexibility check the InterRail website option to search routes and timetables for trains that don’t need reservations

Deciding how to travel around Europe is not as simple as it used to be. Not because it’s harder but because there’s so much more choice.

If you only want to visit a specific city, such as Rome, then a cheap budget flight from the UK is probably the sensible option. If you could endure 20 hours on a bus, this is the cheapest option. But if you want to travel city centre to city centre, see some wonderful countryside or maybe sleep away some night miles, then rail travel is still the best choice.

In my early travelling days an InterRail Pass (Eurail Pass for non-EU nationals) was the only realistic option unless you bought tickets as you travelled and had a smattering of language skills to help you buy them.

Today, in the age of electronic ticketing, it’s a simple matter to purchase tickets online before you travel. There are also companies like Railbookers who will purchase all your tickets and book your hotels for a seamless tailor-made package or Great Rail Journeys who have ready-made rail packages and a tour manager to accompany you.

EU citizens buy an InterRail Pass but non-EU nationals buy a Eurail Pass, but they’re basically the same. If you have dual nationality you still need a Eurail Pass if you have lived outside the EU for more than 6 months.

There are so many types of pass - under 25 yrs, over 25 yrs, family ones, group ones, first or second class and they can provide travel within a single country or cover the whole of Europe.

Examples:

A 5 day second class pass for Italy costs 222 euro and allows 5 days of unlimited rail travel within a 2 month period; a first class Global pass (Europe-wide) giving 15 days over 2 months costs 895 euro.
First class passes cost more, but there are plenty of discounts - groups travelling together save 15%, under 25s save around a 20%, under 14s save 50% and under 4s go free.

Rail Pass Pros:

• Freedom to meander around a country or the whole of Europe without a fixed itinerary
• Simplicity of not having to buy tickets on-route
• It allows the maximum freedom to chop and change your route, unlike pre-booked tickets where you lose your money if you miss the train.
• Overnight sleepers are a great way to save on accommodation and travelling time, a 6-bed couchette costs around 40 euro a double around 105 euro and a single around 127 euro.
• Slower local and regional trains don’t need seat reservations and are the best ways to see the countryside

Rail Pass Cons:

• Lump sum committed up-front
• Sleepers and hi-speed trains require seat reservations, which need to be made by phone, via an agent or at the station
• Popular routes may have limited or no seat available during the high season
• If you definitely need to take a specific train you should make a seat reservation costing about 4-5 euro but Thalys and Hi-speed TGV train reservations cost around 33 euro per trip
• A Eurail pass does not include Eurostar trains from London to the continent

Rail passes can be a great idea but it’s important to think through the type of trip you want to do. If you’re going to travel a lot and want maximum flexibility, they’re perfect. If you have limited time or a detailed plan to visit a few major destinations it might be better value to book budget flights and buy a few local rail tickets when you’re there.