First off.... Its in Spain.
I wondered the same thing when I first found out. Id never heard of it. Neither had anyone I had mentioned it to. I briefly had suspicions that my prospective holiday companion was an axe-murderer luring me out to some unknown remote area a'la "The hills have eyes" so that he could turn my kidneys into some sort of lamp...! But Ye of little faith.... its somewhat north of Palma.
It wasnt exactly what one would call a necessary holiday from my perspective. (1) I had only a couple of months previously had my intended holiday of the year in Athens, and (2) Really I needed to retain money more than I needed a break from my exciting schedule of half-assed job searches punctuated by even more half-assed progress through courses confirming I can count, spell and smile at customers (It appears to be universally accepted that if Im out of work I must be some kind of idiot, while the truth really is more along the lines of chronic disinterest)
However, It was an invite I could not refuse, on account of it coming from one of my more recently forged friendships, and one I am particularly proud of. At my previous address of employment he was something of an object of lust for mineself. For reasons not SOLELY related to the fact he found my appearance repugnant and my attitude generally crap, there was no follow up along those lines, however we did find that underneath our respective uber social talents lay a complete intolerance of idiots and a general contempt for humanity at large.
We also both rather enjoy Daiquiri's.
For companionship this holiday could not be topped. Ray - or so we shall call him - not only has a flare for hilarity but also has no qualms about doing his own thing by his own self when our itinaries clash. I managed to attain rather excruciatingly painful sunburn within a few hours of landing (Go me!) and spent the rest of the holiday hissing at the sun from behind my hotel curtains in sizzling-vampire-esque fashion. I covered up my entire body and spent the days henceforth exploring the local area and excursions while Ray tanned on the beach. In the evenings we caught up over cocktails. It was a system that worked well, and I might well try to enforce it with future travelling companions, as being stuck with the same person all day every day has tended to drain my enthusiasm somewhat in the past, whereas if Ray called me today.... well... I probably wouldnt hear the phone go, because I would be standing in front of the bathroom mirror, pouting self-pityingly whilst pushing my sun-flakey boobs back up into their rightful pertness and silently praying they dont remain as crinkley as they currently are. Seriously, they look like the inside of a pomegranite.
The only real pitfall of the holiday (besides the goddamn burn which - believe it or not - IS more annoying to constantly have than to constantly hear about!) was an emotionally crippling moment in the Kareoke bar inwhich some utter SADIST put.... well.... a song of anonymous entitlement on (like I need you goits knowing my weaknesses) which bought a whooooole load of memories back and sent me abandoning Ray at the bar while I found a quiet patch of Spanish resort to sob pathetically in. Word from the wise - Theres no such thing as a quiet patch in such places!! I was mobbed by quasi sympathetic drunks and forced to feign hiccups in the place of the emotional breakdown I was actually having. Atwhich point I was force-fed a shot of something bloody awful and surreptitiously groped as I was helped to my feet. All good! Emotional crisis forgotten in the light of looming potential rape. Its not something I would necessarily prescribe for trauma, nor hiccups, but it does appear to work, is all Im saying..!
In hindsight I wish a little I had gone to further lengths to book a couple of excursions for myself. I generally do, to get a little more variation going on, but it WAS a budget holiday and I did in fact come back with absolutely nothing in terms of currency, so perhaps this is a bit of a redundant regret. In future though I will be sure to look into local activities on the first day of my arrival.
I also wish I hadnt gotten burnt. Well... Obviously... it hurt like a sonofabitch and rendered me even less capable of tanning than my default level of "impossible to tan".Next time, I shall be hitting the beach in SPF 450 and an eskimo suit!
I wondered the same thing when I first found out. Id never heard of it. Neither had anyone I had mentioned it to. I briefly had suspicions that my prospective holiday companion was an axe-murderer luring me out to some unknown remote area a'la "The hills have eyes" so that he could turn my kidneys into some sort of lamp...! But Ye of little faith.... its somewhat north of Palma.
It wasnt exactly what one would call a necessary holiday from my perspective. (1) I had only a couple of months previously had my intended holiday of the year in Athens, and (2) Really I needed to retain money more than I needed a break from my exciting schedule of half-assed job searches punctuated by even more half-assed progress through courses confirming I can count, spell and smile at customers (It appears to be universally accepted that if Im out of work I must be some kind of idiot, while the truth really is more along the lines of chronic disinterest)
However, It was an invite I could not refuse, on account of it coming from one of my more recently forged friendships, and one I am particularly proud of. At my previous address of employment he was something of an object of lust for mineself. For reasons not SOLELY related to the fact he found my appearance repugnant and my attitude generally crap, there was no follow up along those lines, however we did find that underneath our respective uber social talents lay a complete intolerance of idiots and a general contempt for humanity at large.
We also both rather enjoy Daiquiri's.
For companionship this holiday could not be topped. Ray - or so we shall call him - not only has a flare for hilarity but also has no qualms about doing his own thing by his own self when our itinaries clash. I managed to attain rather excruciatingly painful sunburn within a few hours of landing (Go me!) and spent the rest of the holiday hissing at the sun from behind my hotel curtains in sizzling-vampire-esque fashion. I covered up my entire body and spent the days henceforth exploring the local area and excursions while Ray tanned on the beach. In the evenings we caught up over cocktails. It was a system that worked well, and I might well try to enforce it with future travelling companions, as being stuck with the same person all day every day has tended to drain my enthusiasm somewhat in the past, whereas if Ray called me today.... well... I probably wouldnt hear the phone go, because I would be standing in front of the bathroom mirror, pouting self-pityingly whilst pushing my sun-flakey boobs back up into their rightful pertness and silently praying they dont remain as crinkley as they currently are. Seriously, they look like the inside of a pomegranite.
The only real pitfall of the holiday (besides the goddamn burn which - believe it or not - IS more annoying to constantly have than to constantly hear about!) was an emotionally crippling moment in the Kareoke bar inwhich some utter SADIST put.... well.... a song of anonymous entitlement on (like I need you goits knowing my weaknesses) which bought a whooooole load of memories back and sent me abandoning Ray at the bar while I found a quiet patch of Spanish resort to sob pathetically in. Word from the wise - Theres no such thing as a quiet patch in such places!! I was mobbed by quasi sympathetic drunks and forced to feign hiccups in the place of the emotional breakdown I was actually having. Atwhich point I was force-fed a shot of something bloody awful and surreptitiously groped as I was helped to my feet. All good! Emotional crisis forgotten in the light of looming potential rape. Its not something I would necessarily prescribe for trauma, nor hiccups, but it does appear to work, is all Im saying..!
In hindsight I wish a little I had gone to further lengths to book a couple of excursions for myself. I generally do, to get a little more variation going on, but it WAS a budget holiday and I did in fact come back with absolutely nothing in terms of currency, so perhaps this is a bit of a redundant regret. In future though I will be sure to look into local activities on the first day of my arrival.
I also wish I hadnt gotten burnt. Well... Obviously... it hurt like a sonofabitch and rendered me even less capable of tanning than my default level of "impossible to tan".Next time, I shall be hitting the beach in SPF 450 and an eskimo suit!
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