The Mancunion

Britain's biggest student newspaper, serving Greater Manchester

Sun, sex and shit holidays

Party holidays: heaven or hell? Lewis Ryder gives us his opinion.

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As soon as a single drop of rain hits the floor, a torrent of “Get me on holiday” and “Take me back to Napa” statuses flood all social networking sites. They grind away at me like an overzealous fresher at her first BOP – just what is so contagious about, “lads and lass’” holidays (besides the STIs)?

I have never been one to engage in ‘lash-tivities,’ a concept and play on words which distress me deeply. I enjoy a night out and the odd casual encounter, don’t get me wrong, but the idea of a drinking holiday just doesn’t appeal. Thousands flock abroad to popular destinations such as Zante, Aiya Napa and Malia, on a pilgrimage of sex and alcohol, every summer. Once quiet fishing towns, these resorts are now party capitals and breeding grounds for lad and slag behaviour.

Spurred on by Geordie Shore specials in Magaluf (AKA ‘Shagaluf’) and Cancun, as well as The Inbetweeners Movie, many young males mistakenly believe that they will become ‘top shaggers’ as soon as the plane touches down. Drunk with hope and enthusiasm, these spotty boys meet the harsh reality of rejection and regret. The laws of Darwinism rule the lands – only the beautiful prevail, leaving the rest to fight over the scraps.

Great alternative holidays are out there. Inter-railing, for example, allows you to taste different cultures, gives a sense of adventure and also provides opportunities for brilliant nights out.  For example, Prague’s Karlovy Lázně is a five floor club, considered to be one of the best in Europe.

So while I understand that a party holiday is a must-do for some and wish them well, the constant drone of chart music, vomiting and fighting just aren’t for me. The idea of my sun burnt body painfully brushing up against some sweaty guy, who is eating the face of an extremely intoxicated girl after a straight 24 hours of drinking, is frankly hell.