Trifter

I’m Internet literate so I found my, so called ‘perfect’ holiday, on the web. It was with a travel agent I had used before when I went to Sharm O’Sheikh. On that occasion I enjoyed the Egyptian sun but also came down with the runs which is part of the agenda when you go to Egypt. Name me one person who has been to Egypt and not had a stomach upset. I’ll show you a person who never ate the whole week. Anyway I digress, the holiday I booked this time was to Cyprus. I’d heard many great things about the Cypriot weather and nightlife, ‘comin at ya’.

I decided to check trip advisor which I often do when booking. You have to check the place you’re staying hasn’t had any stabbings, rapes or murders. The resort I choose did not have too many negative reports, only a few loose door knobs and overpriced at the local shop. I was sure I could handle these kinds of difficulties. Plus a couple of comments about how the staff spat at them when they spoke. But they were talking metaphorically not literally and I put this down to over sensitivity or possibly a lisp. I had read a bad review before I went to Goa, India, about how a member of staff had trapped the daughter in a room and asked to have sex with her. Now I know this is serious but when I saw the members of staff, most of them couln’t climb a set of stairs without puffing, not many were the right side of fifty.

So I had to take some of these reviews with a pinch of salt, especially the ones that say everything was fantastic and tremedous from someone with a very similar name to the owner of the hotel. If you’re going to lie on a hotel review at least use some creativity and change your name.  I decided to go ahead with the booking after being forced to change my accomodation to avoid the dreaded single supplement.  You’re only allowed to be single if they can shove you into a less popular hotel and charge you extra for self catering. But I wanted relaxation. I wanted sun. So Cyprus was booked but the seeds had already been sown for disaster.