One thing you probably know about me is that I love a sunshine holiday. So much so that I am less than 2 weeks away from my third one this year.
One other thing you may know about me, however, is how much I enjoy a good rant.
So, as much as I love a week away in the sun, leaving all my troubles behind, getting to relax and chill out by the pool while reading shedloads of books… there are also some downsides. At the risk of sounding a tad overdramatic, its time to look at the darker side of a sunny holiday abroad!!!
So picture the scene: you’ve made it to your destination, you’re (I’m projecting here, obviously!) relieved to have survived the flight, and your luggage has finally appeared off the carousel, so you no longer need to worry that you’re going to be sunbathing by the pool in the underwear you’re wearing all week because your bikinis were in your case… time to relax, right? Well, nope. Because it’s time for the holiday transfer bus . . . if it’s actually there waiting for you, that is! And if it is waiting for you, you will probably have to spend your first hour in paradise inside a coach, waiting for it to leave the airport. Only to discover that you have actually got another hour and a half to spend actually travelling down to your destination, and approximately twenty other stops before you get there. Once you get there, you can breathe a sigh of relief, it’s over, you’ve made it. Just the journey from hell back to the airport at the end of the holiday to look forward to… And, no, you can’t get a taxi because you already paid a fortune for the bloody holiday and the transfer bus was included!
I’ve been through this with you guys before, so I won’t elaborate too much on this. Mosquitos absolutely love me and consider me the tastiest of treats . . . I’m pretty sure I am the goddess of the mosquito world. They haven’t told me this but given how much they enjoy feasting on my blood, I am fairly convinced this must be true. They always manage to catch me in the five seconds before I’ve armed myself with repellent, or find the one unsprayed chink in my armour. And they always turn into horrific scabs. I’m still recovering from my Kavos wounds 3 weeks later, ffs! And don’t even get me started on the wasps . . . they seem on a mission to ruin my life at certain times of year, whether it’s hovering over me evilly while I’m trying to relax, or dive-bombing into my pina colada.
I enjoy lying around the pool accompanied by a bit of music from the pool bar, I’d rather do that than listen to my own music when I’m on holiday. However, I hate it when a random sunbather thinks it’s okay to play their own music loudly so I’m forced to listen to that instead of whatever other music is going on. Heard of headphones, mate, yeah? Use them, you’re not the fecking pool DJ! Even worse is when others then decide to compete with the original troublemaker and you are hearing three or four different pieces of music at the same time. It drives me mad.
Constant reapplication of suncream
It’s a necessary evil I know – but I’m sooo lazy and I struggle to maintain my beauty routine when I’m at home . . . reapplying suncream several times a day stresses me out. Especially when it won’t rub in quickly, or goes gloopy, or adds to my sweat and forms a paste. It actually puts me off getting in the pool because I know that I’m going to have to reapply it once I’m dry. And of course I’m having to reapply the mozzy repellent too because of the whole Goddess of Mosquitos thing so you can guarantee I’m not enjoying myself at this point . . .
Is it actually possible to get on or off a sunlounger gracefully? I seem to be missing that particular knack. And they’re largely incredibly uncomfortable . . . if you can even get one in the first place, that is, since those early morning towel baggers are usually rife.
Restaurant PR folk
It really would be nice to be able to walk down the street of a resort at any time of day, even when you’re not in the market for food at the moment, and not have several thousand eager folk try to happily strong-arm you into their restaurant. Especially if you’ve been there the previous night and want to try something different. It can come in handy sometimes, if you genuinely can’t make up your mind what you want to eat and where you want to go . . . but it’s mainly just very annoying. (and yes, I know people are just trying to make a living, but I’m always entitled to a moan. And just entitled, period…)
Unfamiliar pointy furniture
I always end up going home from holiday with bruises. If the loungers don’t get me, the apartment furniture finishes me off. It always seems to have random sharp edges that I end up walking into since I’m not used to it. Especially after I’ve had me a couple of vinos, or are trying to stumble short-sightedly to the loo sans contact lenses in the middle of the night. Maybe I should just start wearing protective clothing . .
And so ends my rant. But . . .What about you guys? Any downsides you have to sunny holidays?