I was 18, just finished my A-Levels and ready to blow off a lot of French and Philosophy induced steam. The best way to do that? Go and get stupidly inebriated off all-inclusive bars for a week.
The destination of choice: Magaluf, the home of the very imaginative chants of some pattern of the words "Maga" and "Shagger" in the tune of "No Limit" by 2 Unlimited, and, my favourite, "Maga, Maga, Maga fuckin luf".
We've all seen the documentaries: Sun, Sex and Suspicious Parents; Sun, Sea and A&E; that ridiculous one by Stacey Dooley where she slates of every aspect of Magaluf. God that annoyed me, the hour long documentary trying to persuade parents to try and stop their (adult) children from going on these holidays by throwing around statistics about rape, theft and injury and inspecting what spirits are in cocktails with names such as the "Headfucker".
Stacey Dooley being miserable while everyone else has a fab time [BBC]
Even with this horribly dangerous reputation being thrown around TV recently, it certainly does not stop us teens going, getting silly and loving every minute of it. It definitely did not put me off, and I didn't even think one of these cheap dirty holidays would be for me. I tend to hate drunken nob heads who drink so much they vomit uncontrollably, but it turns out, I am one. I also hate when I see skinny lads walking around with their shirts of looking like complete tits, they were all over and I didn't even care. Everything I hate could be here but because I have no commitments, complete freedom, my best friends, sunshine and whole lot of alcohol I would not care at all.
The holiday started when we were on the way down to the airport with out stupid "Maga 14" crop tops on with our nicknames on the back (mine was 'the gobby one' even though I lost my voice to the dreaded 'Ruskinoff cough and couldn't talk...I'll explain more about that one soon). The anticipation of what the week would bring, being away without our parents for the first time and the relief of having no more sixth form all rolled together and turned us into a gaggle of babbling, high pitched twats. And I am not ashamed one bit. Getting off the plane and feeling a massive waft of heat overcome your entire body is one of the best things about being on holiday, the novelty slightly wore off when we were looking for our transfer coach for about sixty five and a half years, but our adrenaline was so high it hardly mattered.
Sporting my compulsory (although pretty embarrassing) holiday top
The Accommodation
Some of the hotels in Magaluf do look absolutely revolting. But it's one of those holidays and you get what you pay for so it's no surprise some of the hotels looked as though you could catch something just by walking in. As our coach was buzzing around the tiny little streets of the quainter, nicer parts of Mallorca, some parts of which we must have passed 12 times going back and forth from one hotel to the next, we would go past some very dodgy looking places that you could tell were miles away from anything and we were hoping we weren't due to get off any time soon. After giving each other countless looks of terror when we'd slow down and pull up to grotty hotels, we were finally called to get off. Our hotel was gorgeous in comparison to the others, thank God! Our holiday company messed up (what did we expect from low cost holidays) and our hotels ended up getting cancelled twice. To be fair I can't slag off the company any more, they upgraded us twice to a hotel we'd have never be able to afford, and they did so for no extra cost...so we were the lucky ones.
We were staying at the Fergus Pax which was lovely. It was secure, the staff were great and it had a sister hotel next door which we could use and it gave us the chance to meet more people. No complaints.
The view from my balcony at the Fergus Pax Hotel
All-inclusive
Hmm...all-inclusive. Just hearing those words make my liver ache. But oh my God it was fabulous...being able to drink pina coladas and "Love On The Beach"es (a much nicer version of Sex On The Beach which my friend innocently called "Love Is In The Air" the entire time) as soon as we got there until we were about to leave. It was bliss. I love alcohol. And I love it when I don't have to prepare it myself and there's an unlimited supply. The all-inclusive meant we'd have to get up for breakfast which was good because we wouldn't mong out in our rooms all day, although most days I did go for breakfast then go back to bed for a few hours. I love sleep too. Although unlimited cocktails around the pool and all you can eat for a week is easy and convenient, it did make me a massive fatty and it meant we didn't leave the hotel a great deal during the day.
My favourite food from the hotel, coconut balls and ice cream
During the day
On these kinds of holidays the days are pretty much just for sunbathing and recovering from last night's binge to prepare yourself for the messy night ahead. I only really had two main days out: the water park and the boat party. The water park was the only time I was relatively sober and it was pretty refreshing and surprisingly nobody threw up down the water slides. And the boat party was amazing. Apart from the fact I was one of the only girls drinking beer and every time I'd go to the bar the barman would say "Sangria's at the other side babe". Like fuck off you sexist twat, give me a beer and don't call me babe. But, I would say if you go on one of these holidays you HAVE to do a boat party. Even the sex games where hilarious. I mean they wouldn't have been funny if I got groped...but I avoided it so watching my friend get dry humped by a chubby virgin was priceless.
How I ended up after the boat party, I have no idea where the peach came from.
Everything about the night. You go on these holidays solely for the night. And Magaluf's nightlife is great. BCM square has fun quirky bars (which we should have experienced more of), BCM club is brilliant especially when there's an event with a free bar, the MCP five club free bar thing- ace. Everything is just so good. Walking down the strip there is such a buzzing atmosphere, you can go to any bar and sit outside and have such a great time. The lucky lucky men who sell you absolute tat are hilarious, not stopping at anything to make you buy a flashing ring or fake Ray Bans and calling you "chicken nugget" as you walked past. I initially thought that was a cute term of endearment until I realised it meant "cheap white meat". It's a good job I'm not a raging feminist. I got a nice pair of "Ray Bons" for five euros for my dad off one of them anyway. Basically the nightlife is just ace and there's no other way of describing it. Apart from messy. I ended up throwing up a load of watermelon and rice all over the open front of a takeaway while being shooed off by the owner with a sweeping brush and being chatted up by some really desperate boy. Yeah I don't get it either. A mixture of melon and rice projecting out of my nose and he still wanted to follow me down the strip.
The people
Everyone is on the same wavelength. Everyone is after getting pissed and having a good time so there's never anyone you don't get along with. Holidays are a time when you can go straight up to randomers when you're half naked and start having straight up banter.
Me and mybest friends
dressed as
cavegirls. One of the
guys we met
who had a
lettuce...
What may seem like a sausage fest is the group
of lads from Sheffield we met, which clearly
we had to become best mates with because we're
both from Yorkshire.
This is just another group of foreign people we
met at the sister hotel. Which was fun because when certain things in the famous drinking game "Never Have I Ever" get lost in translation it can be pretty hilarious.
I also met Scarlett from Gogglebox... Yes we are best friends now.
I have probably missed SO much out but I have gone on for long enough about my love for Magaluf. Yes it is dirty, yes it is trashy, yes people vomit all over the place, but it is the best time. I would advise everyone to do one of these holidays at least once. I loved it that much I'm going ever dirtier and even trashier in August and going to get destroyed by Kavos.
As a nice final summary of Magaluf...here is a picture of a guy throwing up.
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