Britts Abroad (S.O.S: Sisters on Safari)
My sister and I went on the most ridiculous all inclusive
holiday in Mallorca. It was bonkers. We had our mouths open from start to
finish. It was the epitome of the Britt’s abroad anti culture we have grown to
know and loathe. There was nothing Spanish about 853 room super resort, strait
out the 70’s and so were the people. All there was to do was eat and drink and
secretly take pictures of the animals at the zoo…
St’ terracotta was THE colour of the holiday.
Some people
actually blended in with the furniture.
Dehydrated prune was a status symbol.
The only way to blend in was to become one with the lobster
A genuine christening
My favourite pair of lesbians. . . |
The entertainment consisted of failed actors and
impersonators seemingly brought back from the dead. Cruise ship style singers
topped off with token mullets playing the last few decades ‘hit’s while the
audience drowned out the drones of the casio keyboard, at it’s best with an electro
reggae beat on repeat.
Other nights we had dancers, magicians, bingo, discos and a
Tom Jones impersonator. He really drove the audience wild. Females actually
took off their bras, dry humped there partners and then did a spontaneous
conger onto the stage. He definitely deserved an encore and for his finale he remixed ‘Show me the way to amerillo’ with
Hey Baby Ow Ah’
A-M-A-Z-I-N-G.
If the entertainment inside the resort wasn’t enough then there
was a local town full of the usual tourist garbollox, tat and totally terrible
trinkets. There were clubs after pubs after cocktail fusions, all crammed with
English holiday makers looking for absolutely nothing new.
The bars even played the nations favourite soaps back to back with Rugby headline the big screen every night. WOOOOO!!!
I think there were
some genuine gypsy children there too, dolled up to the 999’s. No self
respecting parent with a pair of slightly working eyes would let a child wear
the clothes these girls were sporting. It just wasn’t sain. Then again the
older ones gave them a run for there money, letting it all hang out over
breakfast, lunch and dinner. And do you know what- Fair play to them. When you
get to that age who gives a shit???? If you want to wear head to toe leopard
print, pink valour tracksuits and go topless when you 70+ why the hell not?
Sexy 69 in the garden..... |
That was another great thing. No one gave a shit. Literally,
there was no pretence, no one was showing off, no one was eyeing you up or
judging you for anything. People just didn’t care. There were there for 3
things and 3 things only. Food booze and terrible tan lines
Separated at birth....
We made absolutely no friends and gained about half a stone.
It was an amazing holiday but in a truly ironic way. I found my salvation, as
always, in postcards. I wanted them to be offensive but my only materials were
from leaflets advertising ‘Western
World’ or some deep sea experience so I couldn’t construct anything truly
cultural
All postcards are free to recieve and anyone who sends an address gets one, as long as the postmen dosent pocket them of course.
Art is to enjoy :)
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haha awesome. I'd love a postcard, but no fixed address!
ReplyDeleteTimmy K x
Keep your eyes out for the next time i'm on holiday and I'll stick something in the post to somewhere in the world for ya.
DeleteLove from
Charlie Gates
x