Paradise for parents: A family stay in a Greek villa by the sea... with a CRÈCHE

Barely five minutes after dropping our toddler Henry at the crèche and checking three-month-old Poppy is snoozing in the shade, my husband and I are collecting limes to make cocktails. We are like giddy teenagers.

That’s because we’ve discovered the Greek island of Zakynthos. Or, more importantly, a tiny cluster of self-catering villas by the sea, each with private pool, garden and, best of all, a crèche.

Periyali Villas is on the quiet Vassilikos peninsula — part of the Ionian Islands — just seven minutes’ walk from Gerakas Beach, which has been rated in the top 12 beaches in Europe.

The tiny cluster of self catering villas are just seven minutes walk away from Gerakas Beach (pictured)

There are three acres of olive trees and oleanders, and 11 villas painted in shades of sugared almonds.

Within a short stroll is the children’s club, where qualified nannies entertain your offspring while you get quietly sozzled in the sunshine or reacquaint yourself with the pleasure of reading a book.

Giddy: Rebecca, baby Poppy and toddler Henry

Twice a week, the crèche also opens in the evening so that parents can enjoy a night together. Staff will even deliver drinks or provide a full candlelit dinner. The weekly communal BBQ by the pool is one of those occasions you quietly dread, but end up having a ball at. It helps that the nannies are all on hand to entertain the little ones.

When it’s time for bed, the older children sense their parents have had a cocktail or two and disappear into the gardens for a moonlit game of hide-and-seek. Henry, meanwhile, manages to commandeer a ride-on toy truck and appears hell-bent on driving into the pool. Poppy is gloriously oblivious to everything.

The following evening, we wander along the coast to Porto Roma, taking a dusty track through olive groves leading to a beach bar, where we feast on fig salad, freshly-caught squid and homemade lemonade.

Several nights, we end up at Nikos Beach Bar, seduced by the daily specials and sweeping views over the Ionian Sea to the twinkling mainland in the distance.

Walking back along the seafront on our final evening, Henry points upwards and asks: ‘Mummy, what’s that?’ It occurs to me that growing up in London, he has never truly appreciated a clear night sky.

I put on my Brian Cox hat and bang on about the constellations. He won’t remember a word, but he will never forget the experience. Nor will I.