NOT been abroad for a while? Just booked a fortnight? Forgotten what it’s like? This is why you should have gone to Dorset:
Airports
The delays. The queues. The stupid rules. The £5 charge for dropping off. The price of a f**king coffee. You’re not even on the plane yet and you’ve wasted half a day and spent a pissing fortune. All for being crammed into a seat for three hours while a baby howls.
Mosquitos
You’ve stopped thinking of Britain as ‘that wonderful place without little buzzy bastards everywhere’, but you’ll remember. No matter how much foul-smelling insect repellent you apply, they’ll find a way through. The bites will itch unbearably and once you’ve scratched off the top, you’ll discover the agony of immersing them in seawater.
Toilets
Your memories of Greece neglected to include putting shitty toilet roll in a bin, hating it, convincing yourself the waste pipes can handle your post-dolmades dump along with a bit of bog roll, flushing and flooding the bathroom with sodden paper and excrement.
Aircon
Every British holidaymaker is caught in a cycle; return from beach boiling, whack air-con on, pass out, wake up freezing, go out and get pissed, come home hot, whack air-con on, wake up hungover and in the initial stages of hypothermia at 3am. Shiver under a sheet until 6am. Begin day exhausted. Repeat.
Other people’s kids
You thought maybe the cost of living crisis would stop other Brits coming, but you were wrong. The peaceful, dreamy days lying by the pool of your imagination will be shattered by yelling, splashing and exhausted tantrums. You will not get past p100 of your Jack Reacher.
Shit wifi
Holidaying abroad is your one chance to step back from the rat race and get back to life’s simple pleasures, such as scrolling your mobile for 15 hours a day. But Brexit means you’ve no data and the hotel wifi’s buffering to buggery. You’ve no idea what the football transfers are and you’ve missed crucial Twitter drama. Bridlington would have been better.
