IS it just me who’s noticed a few annoying traits, or habits if you will, that us holidayers bring, along with our baggage, when we go abroad? Well, let me tell you, being lucky enough to have four weeks on holiday this summer, I’ve managed to make a list of the top five most annoying holiday habits that make me want to chuck someone into the pool.
Let me kick of proceedings with what I like to call the ‘I’m British’ complex. We all do it, by the way guys. So you’re sat by the pool and you hear a rogue English voice. You sit bolt upright trying to see where it came from so you can shimmy closer throughout the day for some conversation you’re desperate to have with somebody from ‘home’. We go away on holiday to escape ‘home’, yet we can’t get enough of chips, some footie conversation and generally English surroundings.
But then I must jump quickly to the defence of these people, because we do all love a bit of a chat with somebody who doesn’t require some make-shift hand movements to make clearer what we actually mean.
The next victims of my holidaying hatred are the Culture Vultures. You know the ones. Who have memorised the useful phrases pages of their language manual from WHSmiths at the airport on the way here. The ones who have a diet of strictly dishes which they don’t know the contents. Because if it’s unfamiliar, then it must be ‘nice and cultural’. OK, I don’t like to be a Brit Abroad but some people just try too hard. And no, Spanglish doesn’t count as being cultural, love.
Right then, what’s up next? Oh, flip-flops. Now I’m guilty of this myself but none of us can deny how annoying they sound when walking down the corridor to your room. Oh yes, generally are annoying but what happens when your feet are wet from the pool. They’ve mutated into some cross-breed of squeak-flops. And then that corridor turns into the longest walk, all because that sound is so damn annoying.
Hey, now don’t take this the wrong way now. Because holidays are for relaxing and just letting your cares float away. But often, those cares have floated away hand in hand with a little too much material thats disappeared from a swimming costume, leaving a small stringy bikini.
I’m convinced that some of these women definitely wouldn’t be wearing such small garments at the local swimming baths down the road at home, because they don’t feel comfortable. But here, by a pool abroad, that’s ok? There’s an accepted and collective attitude that regardless of what people may think back in England, you can wear what you want and it looks good.
Well, let’s be honest, it doesn’t. You don’t wear it back home for a reason. That reason is still valid overseas, just so you know…
So I feel a bit bad about that last one. But some people should just be happy with a swimming costume… not the smallest bikini in Primark.
Another thing, before I’ve even got on holiday, the trauma on the plane is a whole other blog post altogether, but the thing that grinds my gears is the one that gets up before the plane has even stopped moving on the runway. Usually thinks a little too highly of himself, often with an embarrassing hat of some sort, he’s up and at ’em, scrambling for his hand luggage before the pilot’s even had a chance to park. Mate, you won’t get off quicker. Everyone’s throwing you daggers. And your hat looks stupid. Please, just sit down.
So, there we go. My bitch and moans as a whole from my trips to Egypt and Ibiza this year (for which there’ll be a bit of a less whiney blog). I nearly guarantee that you’ll notice them even more now when you go away. Happy holidaying!
DISCLAIMER: I don’t know the people in the photo, but if you’re reading, then, erm, thanks?