“Where are you going for your holiday this year?” you’re asked. You lift your chin up with pride and utter those three syllables that you hold in a special place in your heart: “Ben-i-dorm.” Smarmy Nick who’s off on a four-month salmon fishing trip to Yemen chortles, “Benidorm?! Are you having a laugh, mate?” You take out your factor 50, put on your sunglasses and reply “Yeah, ‘mate’. Benidorm” and ride off into the sunset to the place where dreams are made of. To the place where only you and the people there will understand what’s below.
Everyone rushing to get on the plane even though it has allocated seating
Not quite having the ‘magic show’ you expected at a night with Sticky Vicky
Mobility scooters. Mobility scooters everywhere.
The gay district and the fabulous drag queens, like The Rich B****
Going to John and Joseph’s at 5am for a Full English after a night on the toon
Telling everyone back in £4-a-pint England how you had bottles of wine for 50p
When queueing in Beni, there is no queuing. It’s every man for himself.
Brits complaining that it’s too hot when it gets above 15°C
Falling in love with its high-rises, and realising they’re just as integral to the place as ice is to Iceland
Everyone telling you adamantly that it’s ‘not just Birmingham with a beach’
Knowing it doesn’t deserve the bad rep it gets because you’ve actually been there, and it’s great.