Bodrum has arrived and acquired a laid-back sophisticated buzz you can feel. Unlike many of her Aegean sisters, Bohemian Bodrum is chock-a-block with holidaying Turks. This is where the well-heeled come to get well-oiled. I wonder what the urbane Turkish social elite sporting Lacoste polo shirts, M&S Blue Harbour cotton pants and loafers make of the half-naked pot-bellied Brits who waddle along the smart Marina promenade in Nike trainers and extra-large synthetic shorts from JD Sports? I observed a family of tattooed honey monsters looking lost and disoriented in animated conversation. It was almost as if they’d been beamed in from Benidorm. Virtually every second word was an expletive. I have nothing against the occasional curse. I’ve been known to use the odd ripe Anglo-Saxon profanity myself from time to time. However, I swear with care. They cussed because of a limited vocabulary.
Perking the Pansies 
Nice. Really.
Actually, I’m pretty sure that Benidorm doesn’t really feature so many of the rotund foul-mouthed type of Brit these days. It is, however, rammed with an incongruous mix of undressed and insensible females in gutter hen parties and those that get around on zimmer frames and receive personal birthday greetings from the Queen annually.
Fortunately the campo is attractive to neither.
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I was wondering where we might eventually settle when we fall off our perches and hit out dotage proper. Off to Benidorm we shall go!
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Pot Bellied Brits? I just had to take a look at this post when I saw the title. Was it possible that Jack had been taking a sneaky look at recent photos of me on facebook and had found a particularly unflattering one? Thankfully not. We rarely venture as far as Benidorm, so I’m not in a position to endorse BittenbySpain’s comments, though last time we were there we couldn’t see any other Brits around, until we realised that we had stumbled upon the Spanish quarters by mistake! Am I the only one to feel slightly responsible for the lager lout Brits abroad, even though the only thing we share is our nationality?
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I’ve scoured your faceache photos and can find nothing incriminating. I think we all feel a little responsible for the way our fellow brits sometimes behave abroad.
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Faceache, Jack? Or is it John? Or Deb? Are we all merging into one???
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We’re never seen the same place at the same time. Spooky
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You haven’t seen my facebook photos, bittenbyspain. Jack’s face was aching just trying not to laugh!
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Ah, that’s just not true.
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