Inspired by watching The Inbetweeners film (if you aren’t from the UK I hope you get to see it, its hilarious) I decided to write some posts on my first holiday away from my parents. If you read Part 1, you will understand how we came to be acquainted with six lads who were, well, interesting. They were a few years older than us and therefore a bit of a mystery to seventeen year olds, yet they were also the sort of men who we knew we would never be associated with at home. But oh well, when in Rome!
Danny was bald and had a lisp but I found him amusing and he was my partner in crime for the trip. Whizzer was short and looked like he might have had an STD, and was completely mental. J was the gentlemanly dapper one, and Adam had a tattoo on his back that said ‘only God will judge me’. This wasn’t true. All the Mums around the pool were eyeing him up with worry, and completely judging him for looking like he might kidnap one of their darlings. Aaron was the ginger one, and Ben was hot. So hot that you couldn’t really look directly at him. My friend took a shining to him and we were bound to them for the rest of the week.
In their defence, they took us under their wing and kept us amused. They also got us banned from one of the pools and gave us a visit to hospital, but that was the fun of the teenage holiday.
By day us girls would migrate to the pool after a short night’s sleep, meeting them there as they stumbled back from one of the clubs. We would reserve them a lounger where they would kip the alcohol off before starting again, burning in the sun as the effects of the night before wore off.
We had joined them the night before on a night out, and all got our sleep on the loungers in the sun, some suffering more than others from the effects of the massive fish bowls full of cheap liquor we had drunk previously. I slept peacefully until two of the lads decided it was time to wake me, picked up my sun lounger and flung me in the ice-cold pool. Cheers lads. I recovered quickly and positioned myself on a lilo, where I slept for a few hours, blissfully unaware of the hijinks happening around me. I awoke later when I felt someone groping my bum.
The defence story was that ‘it was burning’ and the lads were simply thinking of my well-being by rubbing in some sun lotion. Course you were boys. But I was quite pleased that I wasn’t going to have to perch on flaming cheeks for the rest of the holiday so reserved my retribution for a later date.
That night we went on a resort-organised bar crawl. I had never been on a bar crawl and didn’t really like the sound of it, but thought I would anyway. I didn’t really stand a chance as friend was in love, and as the boys were going, there was no chance we weren’t. It was horrific. The long and short of it is that we were plied with cheap shots and my friend swapped clothes with hot Ben. Funny, because he was wearing a dress; less funny when she fell off the bar thanks to a swift wrestle from Aaron and our night was cut short by a trip to a Greek A&E. She was patched up quickly and we were escorted off the premises, thanks to the rowdy boys. Job done.
The holiday went past with relative quietness, till we got banned from the pool. Whizzer had been spiking everyone’s milkshakes with shots of vodka through the hot and sunny day, and after a few bevvies had decided it was a great idea to host some pool Olympics. The lilos were set in a line across the water, and we took it in turns to run across them; the winner being the one who made it to the other side of the pool or at least the furthest without falling in.
Obviously it was dangerous, especially fuelled by alcohol, and something that the reps tried to break up. But the boys persevered with their new sport, until one fell funny and hit the side with a sickening crack. He went under for the scariest length of time, before shooting to the surface and gasping for breath. He has concussion and a broken arm and as he was whisked back to A&E for the second time that week, we were politely told that we were no longer welcome at the pool, and had to make do with the beach instead.
On the flight home I wrapped myself in my hoodie and tried to sleep as best as I could with sunburn and a hangover, and as soon as we got home housemate and I went straight to our rooms and slept off the effects of what should have been a relaxing holiday. Needless to say I have never been 18 – 30’s since!!