Holiday Journal.

Day 1. I'd like to say that it got off to a good start. The truth is I
am sick of every person in these apartments already. My stepdad, whom
I already hate with wrathful passion, has only spoken of cigarettes
since we arrived. He has, infact, decided to use a food bowl to
dispose of ash because he couldn't find one. Right at this moment my
mum used the word fag in the same sentence twice. I am sick to the
stomach of the two of them puffing in my and my seven year old
sister's faces all day. I can not come to terms with how sick the two
of them are making me feel right at this moment. I said to my mother;
I haven't stopped eating on this plane. I then inquired about whether
the pool would be deep enough to swim in. I don't remember her exact
words although I think she said "That'll tone some podge."

I have never hated as much as I do right now. I am so close to tears
and we have been here for an hour. I am muttering that I want him dead
under my breath and he is walking past me obliviously not knowing
anything like a stupid dumb, child-poisoning fuck.

I'm off to attempt to shed some light on the situation.

My mum just took out a packet of cocktail sausages from the fridge and
two plates. I asked who they were for and she didn't reply. I then
said don't make me any and she replied "You weren't getting any."

It's only twenty-five past nine and I am lying in bed. I managed sleep
for an hour on the bed whilst everyone else bathed under clouds on the
balcony. I was carelessly tired when I awoke.

The waiter left us 3 shots of peach schnapps at the restaurant we went to and I drank two. I bought a medley of them on the way home although they tasted of vodka twice
as much. I like the almond one, it tastes much like a liquified
bakewell tart.

Day 2. Awoke feeling angry. Walked feeling calmer. Arrived home
feeling sore, and more angry. Supermarket sweep. Look for cheap as
chips labels to please mum. The supermarkets do the
biggest selection of pastries I have ever seen. They shove everything
in them, from chocolate to fruit to cream to you name it. I don't seem to be sweltering in the heat today, though I am
cold 70% of the day on most days.

Mum is cleaning, Shannon is writing. Just about to switch on Manics by
the hotel pool. This is the only bliss I await.

It's 5:12 in the evening and I'm sitting alone with a box of cherries
at hand. My mum is asleep and everyone else is still at the pool. Have
been walking for what seems like forever. Hotel rep seemed happy to pick on us around the pool. He stared me out
from the pool and whilst soaking the kids muttered "You're next!"

Instead he brainwashed my sister into soaking my stepdad whilst the
other guests laughed in that way that they do. He grinned whilst
carrying the watering can up to my bed where I grinned in retaliation
and curled my legs. Apparently a "No, don't." was enough to scare off
the hazard.

Cherries are the most beautiful fruit. They are proper, classy
cherries binded in twos by a double stalk. The darker they are, the
redder inside. I wet them and then placed them on both the white
worktop and the blue wooden table and took photographs.

Day 3. I love the way my mum will yelp every time a fraction of one of
my body parts retreats to the shade. It's as though she took me on
holiday merely for an experiment, to see what I might look like with a
tan. Fuck it, pale all the way. I am scared that the sun will lighten
my black hair. Every decision is based on vanity.

There is a man I recognise on the sunbed infront. He looks like one of
the Welsh men from Jackass, or is it that other version of the show?
He is also one part of the "Pain men", if it is indeed him. There are
3 girls relaxing to chart music to the right of me. They are annoying
and I wish they would move.

2pm. We have just been to the apartment to eat lunch. I had a bowl of
porridge and peanut butter. I used the Internet for 10 minutes to a
Euro. Nothing much happening there.

11:54. Sitting woefully in the hotel lounge and bar area. Soon perked up
watching the kids play musical bumps. Mass conga. I was one of the few to not join in. I couldn't possibly.
I made an excuse that I wanted to change my shoes in the apartment and
while I did so I ate a slice of cake.

My mum only seems happy when others are content with us. She took
photographs of my sister and she forced her to smile widely and I
wanted to vomit. She enquired about whether the couple sitting beside
us might be bothered by her cigarette smoke blowing in their faces.
"Such is life" my stepdad answered. It doesn't phase her, however, to
blow smoke in the faces of her own children every day since we were
born. Nor break hotel rules by smoking inside the building. Sometimes
her blind ignorance could knock me off my feet. Sometimes I want to
shake her and ask her what the hell she is playing at.

Day 4. Off for a walk down the harbour we went, which went hand in hand
with my mums subtle little put downs. Today I learned that I lack the
ability to think for myself, and last night it was that I am the only
person who doesn't make negative comments about the prices of raffle
tickets. My mum is a slave to capitalism. Her every choice and whim is
based on cost. Everything. And by habit, I choose the cheapest I can
to please her. In an ideal world, she would base her decision on what
she most needed, not what came more free. The level of slavery in this
world is phenomenal. The worst thing is that nobody even knows it.

I cannot sit at peace. I am sitting alone by an umbrella in the shade,
and the heat is still unbearable. Everyone else basks in the sun. I
think that what I had at a beach restaurant has upset my stomach, it
keeps churning. The discomfort in my face was a mixture of hate, anxiety, fear and heat. She said I
looked as though I was about to hit someone. I wish I had that sort of
menace physically.

The heat is torturing me and making me
bloat and driving me out of my mind. I would cool down in the pool but
it is too loud and boisterous. My stomach is twice the size and looks
set to get bigger. I am still yearning for any sort of affection.
Anything. Maybe even a hello.

9:40pm. Drink at family bar, creeped out by unfamiliarity, child-like
energy overtook me.

Day 5. Went for a stupendously long walk in 26 degrees.
I woke up ravishingly hungry. I had just dreamt
that I was in Egypt and I was in amazement. I passed a wonderful book
shop filled to the brim with old archaelogical books. Then I passed a
tropical fruit shop with various juices and smoothies and they were in
their hundreds. Then a chocolate shop was seen. We left the cluster of
shops and were met with a longated buffet table decorated with every
food known to man.

I have no idea why it was Egypt we were in and as we walked along open
plan stalls in Alcudia, my eyes caught site of a particularly nice
bag. I grabbed it and pulled it closer to my eyes and the first word I
did see was "Egypt".

I started a new book last night. It is about a man who isolates
himself from society by living solitary and alienated in a forest.
Usually I highlight parts of books that I like, this one more often
than usual. I was highlighting a sentence or passage every half page.
It was glorious to find something that ticks on my level.

"None can be an impartial or wise observer of human life but from the
vantage ground of what we should call voluntary poverty."

"Practically, the old have no very important advice to give the young,
their own experience has been so partial, and their lives have been
such miserable failures, for private reasons, as they must believe;
and it may be that they have some faith left which belies that
experience, and they are only less young than they were."

4:54pm. Woke up alone after sleeping outstretched on the bed. Minty the hotel
entertainer said to me- tomorrow never comes. He was right in many ways. I am hoping that
everyone has not ventured out without me.

Day 6. Last night my stepdad started on me completely randomly whilst
I was on the balcony. The worst thing is that I was feeling
particularly dandy last night. He said I never look happy and I make
my mum unhappy because I am apparently not enjoying myself. He said I
never laugh or smile or show appreciation. I was so angry the more and
more he spoke and even when I started crying, still he did not stop
slagging me down. I had nothing to say in retaliation. I wanted to run
away into nowhere and the more I realised I was speechless, the more I
cried. I went into bed without word.


Day 7. I dreamt that Angie wrote me a letter saying that she was
cleared of cancer. She doesn't have cancer, to the best of my
knowledge. I hope it wasn't a sign. I awoke thinking deeply about
Richey. I do hope that that was a sign. We have Welsh local news on
the TVs in this hotel for some reason and there was a piece on the
Severn Bridge. I watched it thinking and knowing that his remains are
in there somewhere, in hidden view of their very cameras. It was scary
and very sad. Today I am going to use Angie's songs again and try to
OBE in the apartment. I remember my last holiday I returned from. It
was Portugal and when I got back there was a beautiful poem sitting
there waiting for me amongst other things. It makes me feel hopeless
knowing how things could have been different.

8 minutes past midnight. We were in the bar and, for once, I felt joyous and calm. Minty the
entertainer did a quiz and we won for the second night in a row. We
now have 3 bottles of champagne stashed away. I believe we are among
the most intelligent in this hotel. Or that I take it most seriously,
at least.

I was bathing around the pool this morning but the clouds had hidden
the sun. There were tons of newcomers and Minty was showing off by
soaking everyone with buckets of water. He shouted my name, of which I
don't know how he learned it, and he said I must go in the pool today,
and I was certainly planning to. He then filled his bucket to the brim
and threw the entire thing over me in front of everybody. It was
dripping off my hair and down my chest and it was absolutely freezing.
I thought best to make the most of the water and, while still cold, I
jumped into the pool and swam lengths. I embraced the laughter and
attention, actually. He is overweight but surprisingly fit and healthy
for 52.

Day 8. Nothing going on. Been in pool, been out of pool. Minty was
entertaining the kids by soaking every single person in a bathing suit
on sunbeds. I have realised that my family members are extremely
dysfunctional. How dare they lecture me about not appearing to be
happy when they sit there as miserable as sin with their petty marital
disagreements. If I am not happy then it must be in relation to them.

I have the oddest urge to go out walking in the early morning. To go
out and find somebody to confide in. I often fantasize about sitting
down by the pool in darkness and having somebody come over and listen
to what I have to say. Usually the hotel entertainer. All my problems
and doubts, and then when I am sitting at the bar he can wink at me
and we can know what's going on but just between us two. Then I never
have to bring someone home who is able to monitor me. Just a temporary
comfort while I am away. I find it odd that I always find
myself wanting to be deep with entertainers whose sole job is to make
people laugh and entertain. There's something alluring about having a
serious conversation with them, I suppose. If I were ever to make a
clown sad, I would feel fulfilled. When I write I try to make people
who know me saddened. I love misery. It's the most natural emotion.
All happiness, to some degree, is forced. Much like self worth or
beauty.

It is now 8 minutes past midnight. I am listening to the opening theme
of Rocky Horror. What a f*cking wonderful film. We went into the bar
and did the quiz. We were tied winners. Again. My mum very nicely gave
the champagne to the other lady. I am burnt down my left arm and on my
right foot. The sun is my enemy. I am lonely. Short sentences mark the
beginning of boredom. Goodnight.

Day 9. No particularly overwhelming feeling today. Disastrously hot
but our beds are now in the shade of a tree. Rejoice. I took my little
sister to get a pony ride without realising I would have to walk by
it's side. I returned with inflammed skin, spots, itching and redness.
Hate animals. I did feel sad for the thing though. Everyone is basking
in the sun trying to look browner than they are. This is the saddest
lifestyle I have ever taken part in.

11:23. Hotel entertainment can be both a hilarious and depressing
experience. Minty the overweight, middle aged man kept perving on a
group of four girls. He's never given me that kind of treatment. The
"lady" treatment. Just because they are wearing dresses and have long
hair, does that mean that I, with my black trousers and short hair, am
not worthy of being traditional teen eye candy. She was only nineteen
and I am eighteen, yet all he does is try and soak me during the day.
With those girls he picks them up and gives them the eye and gets
nostalgic.

So for that reason I have proposed an experiment. One night I shall
wear a skimpy dress without leggings. I will monitor him
and see if I notice any difference. A skimpy dress with high heeled
platform shoes.

It begins tomorrow. I have had a disgusting week. Truly disgusting. I
am bored. The young boy entertainer is dumb but he might be fun to
talk to. I wish I were here by myself. I wouldn't be under the
watchful eye of family.

Day 10. Beach day.

12:23 or 11:23 in British time. What an odd night. We went to the
hotel restaurant for dinner and, as I thought I looked alright this
evening, I decided it was the night to try out my experiment. I wore
tall wedges. Quite ugly, but they made me noticeably taller and made
my legs look slimmer. I wore only underwear and a leopard print tunic
which came to just above my knees, all floaty and feminine. I
straightened my hair properly (I prefer to have it wavy and free) and
I went out to observe.

Tonight was Elvis night. Whilst sitting in the
restaurant, Minty popped his head through the door and then I waved.
The Elvis impersonator felt a bit cheap. He was kind of alluring
though. He had a wide Cheshire cat grin and he could do a Scottish
accent. Although Spanish, he could even identify that Britain does not
only consist of England, and that it has other countries too.

I kept my eye out for Minty. I looked like those girls now. He always
stands and looks quizzical whilst his eyes gaze around the room. He is
unnatractive, overweight and a bit perverted, and I didn't want to be
perved on at all. Okay... Maybe a little. Since I arrived I noticed
that he has a signature greeting for every guest he knows. One lady he
shouts "Mum" to, and those four girls are the butt of his filthy
jokes. Whenever I cross him he just stares into my face until I either
laugh or look away. His assistant entertainer is called Ashley. I do
admit to feeling sexier tonight than usual, but only because my legs
were on show and I felt like some sort of gypsy slut. I smiled at him
because I could.

Besides. When Elvis got going, and I stood clapping, Minty stood
beside me in my heels and stared at me as if to mock my newfound height.

High heels gain attention - check.

As the guests got rowdy, he pulled various guests up to dance. He did
pull me up and I kicked my legs about for a while whilst I laughed.
However, he danced with two or three of the four girls first.

Dress works - perhaps... It certainly makes people look.

We'll never know if the straightened hair works as it's not a common
topic of conversation, how straight ones hair is. He smelled of sweat.
He looked like sweat. I conclude my experiment to be partially
successful.

When I got back to the apartment, I couldn't hear in my right ear. The
poor thing is not used to such a rowdy, loud atmosphere. I stood on
the balcony and observed the other balconies and I saw a young man
sitting in a chair who looked at me at the same moment I looked at
him. I looked for a further slow second or two and then looked away.
Each time I glanced back either he or I would turn our heads away. As
if not to notice our impolite staring. My stepdad was talking to me
but I wasn't really listening as I turned my head to giggle at the
game of "Bet you can't catch me looking" going on. I think he gave up
first when his father sitting beside him started retelling childhood
stories of embarrassment. I hope I don't come across his path
tomorrow. The minx is going to sleep.

P.S - the experiment isn't over.

2:13. Awoken by an immense anger. My sister feels ill and my stepdad
is trying to comfort her. When he whispers he makes my skin crawl. I
hate every bone in his body and still I do not know why. The sounds he
makes, the smacking of his lips every 5 seconds, his burping and his
stupid fucking face. All of it gives me an anger so overwhelming and
intolerable that I cannot stand it. I cannot stand it for one second
further. I want to kill him. For all those stupid noises, I want to
kill him. He hasn't done anything bad to me that I
can note in particular. All I know is that he smacks his lips and for
that reason I want him to die. He is everything wrong in my life. I
hate him so much it makes me want to die too rather than listen to him
for one second longer. If only my mum knew.

Little one is crying again. If he comes anywhere near me in this room
I will kill him.

Day 11. Mum and I went a long and tiresome walk along the promenade
because I wanted to go shopping. It got personal again. I am
tired of those games. I found two beautiful designer shops filled with
amazing clothes. Leather dresses, chiffon shirts, studded blazers. All
for a price I can not afford. But they were amazing.

It rained and that is why I am inside writing this. I did pass by that
young man who was on his balcony last night. He was in the pool and he
looked at me again but he is really nothing special so I don't look
anymore. Although I might do for fun. I don't know what to wear
tonight. Whether to wear a dress again or stick to some trousers or
shorts and a fancy top. I did feel so confident. I wish I had gotten
high heels today to accentuate my legs but I do not have the money. I
hate the heels I wore last night. They are not me at all. I will wear
flats to avoid them. It is funny being taller than most of the men
here though. Actually, I will probably go half and half. I will wear a
dress but I bought a hair wax so I will make it as wild as I can and
sport that. I feel pretentious. Pretention, repulsion, I am fluent in
both. I much prefer to feel pretentious though. I don't think there is
anything wrong with that.

While out walking with my mum she insisted she knew I was born in the
wrong age. Not the wrong decade nor century. The wrong age. I told her
about how I would love to dress like a rich Victorian with a satin
dress and cream pearls. And how I love the vistas of a Victorian
alleyway lined with authentic book shops and handy brick work.

It is only 4:26. There is too much time
between now and 8:30 when I can go downstairs. I am going to ask if I
can have the money to buy a vodka and diet coke so maybe I might liven
up a little. I would love to do something stupid and spontaneous. Mum
says she is making a picnic for dinner.

11:27. The plans changed and we ate out for dinner. In the end I wore
a tight pencil skirt, a rose embroidered cream top and a floaty cream
cardigan.

I took my little sister down to the bar with me and watched her dance
the mini disco and whatnot. My skirt kept going up but it is all part
of the experiment. I don't think Minty was in the mood tonight, he
didn't pay much attention at all. I was overwhelmed with a huge
jealousy when he paid attention to the adult ladies instead. I didn't
do much except take on some habitual staring. I thought I ought to
stop being so attention seeking, and it was weird. Weird to find
myself being so bothered. Even the young 17 year old entertainer
didn't take much of a liking to me. Nobody notices me sitting there.
Unless I were to go up on stage, which won't be happening any time
soon. Pretention turned repulsion. If only I could call out and join
in. I just want somebody to talk to me. How can a person pick me to
dance and then say nothing of it the day after. You humans, you're all
too casual.

There are loud people on their balconies outside. I am resisting the
urge to get up and out and witness this kerfuffle like a nosy
housewife. One night, one night I will go out and sit at a table in
the early hours of the morning, all on my own, and somebody will walk
by and see I am lonely and maybe ask me what is wrong and cause a fuss and something
interesting will finally be happening in life. Like in movies.

Why would I ever want to want to chat late at night with a middle aged, overweight man. He is older than my mother. That is worrying. Goodnight.

Day 12. I am in the sun I feel my skin burning. How some people will
find this natural, I'll never know. Minty took out the goal posts for
water polo and asked if I wanted to play so I nodded. Luckily enough I
was already in the water and adapted. I had to wear a stupid blue hat
and I was on a team full of men who were against another full team of
men. I thought, I will be chief goal scorer and so I stood by the
green goal. This could either go very well or be disastrously
embarrassing. It was fine apart from getting kicked in the stomach
which wasn't painful, and my top falling down when I jumped. I am
praying no one saw. Those men are bloody ferocious. I ended up scoring
2 out of 5 goals for our team but we lost anyway. It is very funny how
they all fondle and jump on eachother but if anybody jumps in my way
they ask if I am okay.

Whilst at the bar I figured that the young
entertainer speaks Spanish, which is always impressive for someone who
looks so permenantly gullible. I chew gum so often that I have developed a habit of blowing
bubbles at awkward moments. I did it alot whilst I was playing polo
which was a bit stupid, really.

Minty was on top form and doing some comedic routine tonight. Half of the
jokes I had heard more than once. More than enough.
We won the Bingo. The young entertainer Ashley kept darting his eyes
over to me as I did to him. As the night grew long and the bar
emptied, I decided I didn't want to smile at him anymore. He has a
disastrous taste in music, fashion and haircuts. I soon learned when
he took over the music. It was a depressing bout of Florence and the
Machine and then Rhianna. Besides, I was now sitting alone as my mum
and stepdad were at the bar with another family they had met.

More and more people were leaving and I finally had what I wanted. To
be sitting alone and be in the company of people who may be willing to
listen to me. It was funny to look at Ashley. I don't know why he was
ever willing to look back but he did. It might be because I was on his
water polo team today and he was impressed. I do not make it up when I
saw he was looking at me. I might be crazy but I'm not dellusional. I
am the only girl about of his age. Minty invited anybody out to go and
have a drink with the two of them. Every sensation in my body wanted
to ask to come with them. How wrong and strange that would have been.
It would be like a date with an unwanted guest. Like he had brought
his father along. It turns out that nobody went with them, I think.

Whilst they were closing and tidying up, I sat alone with my legs
crossed and bit my thumb nail. I was virtually alone now. I observed
to see if either Minty or Ashley were taking the chance to notice
this. It lasted a long time. I wanted somebody to come over, sit down
and just talk to me.

All the lights were almost out before Minty ventured past me. I
pretended to be in a daydream and occasionally mimed to Bridge Over
Troubled Water. He looked at me and, because he knew he had to say
something, he asked if I was waiting for my "little sistah". I said
no, I am waiting for "them", and motioned to my mum and stepdad
sitting amongst a small crowd at the bar. He said he did not notice
that there were still people up there. Presumably he felt silly asking
such a question when I gave such a snappy answer. There was my moment
and I wasted it with petty chit chat. He never returned to say
anything else to me tonight. Ashley did pass by and looked at my face
where I put out an uneasy smile and he did one even more uneasily.

I went back upstairs alone. I sat on a white chair on the balcony and brought out a small
bottle of melon schnapps. I planned to make a night of it but the
liquid was truly disgusting and undrinkable. Everyone returned and
soon disturbed my peace. I wanted to wait and watch people outside
passing by. It was too cold to stand it much longer though, and now i
must retire to nod. Goodnight.

Day 13. Mum called me stupid for wearing make up in the sun. I had a
spot on my face, what does she expect?

1:03am. For dinner we went to an area with a strip of British pubs. I
always found it ignorant when people visit predominantly Spanish
places and hunt for restaurants which only cater for their own
culture. It is really quite lazy. I came to the decision of lasagne. Me
and mum went and did a small deal of shopping afterwards. I passed by balcony boy and smiled at him right in the face.
All I seem to do is smile. It's such a natural, casual front.

There was karaoke going on. By karaoke I mean the same man going up
over and over again. How I would love to get up and grind and sing. I
would sing something before my time and all the adults would debate my
age and say I must be so mature to have such a music taste. I told
everyone about a Fats Domino song that came on that I liked, and I saw
mild impression. We sat at a table and I asked for a vodka and diet
coke. It made me wonder whether they had put any coke in it at all. A
family whom they both talk to came over and sat around. I felt instant
unease. They were chatting amonst themselves when my mum and stepdad
both left to have a cigarette and I was left alone with the 3 of them.
An elderly man and woman and their middle aged daughter. The silence
was unbearable. They asked a question and I gave a reply. More
silence. I did not care. I have observed all of them and I can tell
when neither of them care what the other is saying. This must be a
common occurence in humanity. I pretended to need the toilet and left.

Don't get me wrong, they were pleasant people. I had a feeling of
authority and class as both mother and daughter sipped their tomato
juice with Tabasco sauce. Coincidentally they were ranting about a
fellow neighbour in the hotel who is posh and a bit up themselves and
who eat mussels for dinner.

We soon got sick and, after being the last of 2 groups of people left
in the bar, me and my mum went upstairs.

Day 14. Everything is quiet and solemn. The sky is cloudy and grey and
I am the only one of my family on the sunbeds but there are still
brave people in the pool. It is still very warm, mind you. I want to
stay here but then again I want to go. Tomorrow I will be returning to
episodes of repeated isolation. To confined sole bedrooms. Laptops.
Kitchens. Even more intolerable family members. The only thing I
cherish is my Internet. But then again, even that becomes mundane
after 15 minutes. I have to look for a job. I
wish I could live this lifestyle forever instead. At home there is nobody to try and impress.
Nowhere to go at night.

It is 4:09. The heat has done funny things to me. There are clouds
covering the entire sky but still I feel faint and melancholy. I used
the lift up to the apartment and for a moment I thought I was in a
rocket. As though I did not expect the lift to move. I got out all at
once thinking I was on the wrong level, but I wasn't. I felt very odd.
I went inside and pressed my face against the wall and then the
window. I used
the toilet and for the first time in my life I thought I might go out
the way Elvis did. What I did notice though, were red spots on the
tissue. From this evidence I cannot conclude what exactly is wrong
with me. My stomach is rumbling like never before and I feel like I
could be sick.
I am home now. I was supposed to write about last night when I went to bed but instead I was catastrophically ill. I asked for a vodka and coke and then another, and I plucked up the courage to go over to Minty and ask, because I thought it ought to sound impressive, if he could put some 60s on. After saying "Pardon", and me repeating myself, he gave me a quizzical look and then reached for the CDs. Beforehand I went up to pay for some bingo cards and Ashley, in confusion, handed me a euro when I had not even paid for the cards yet. He then laughed, apologised and put it in the hat. To be fair, I did ask for a "Strip, please".

All the popular groups of people and Minty's favourites happened to be leaving the next day too, so we all confined ourselves to 3 tables. I could get used to him staring in my direction every now and then. I wanted to make a night of it so when everyone had went to bed I haggled my mum for money and I ended up going to a bar with a middle aged couple and a couple of 17 and 18. I didn't speak to the young couple nor did I know their names. June, the middle aged lady, was the "life and soul of the party", as they call it. As Minty came over to say goodbye to her and stood right next to me I noticed that, actually, he has lovely sharp eyes and chiseled dark stubble. Although that could have been my influenced thoughts.

We went to a bar called Cheers and it was then that I knew I had reached a level of drunk not before achieved. We stood up the whole time and it was dark and I was far too dizzy. For the first time in my life I yearned to sing on karaoke, but there was none on. I heard Ashley was supposed to be coming to this bar and I found myself embarresingly yelling "Where's Ashley? I thought Ashley was coming?". It was only because I wanted to make an impression so he might go back and talk about me to Minty and I could gain some small satisfaction of fame.

We went to the bar next door for a short while and I thought the strobe lights were 3D. As we stumbled home, I saw my stepdad in the hotel lobby and from afar I thought his head looked small and pin-like, and that I was incredibly tall. I went upstairs and dived into my bed and even with my eyes closed I thought I was flying. As I woke up this morning I tumbled out of bed dizzy. My other symptoms included the shakes, tiredness, stomach upset, sickness and being very off-balance. I went downstairs before everybody else to wait for the coach, and I looked around for anybody to say goodbye to. There was no one. When we finally got on the coach, instead of reminiscing my holiday, I instead wondered whether I would make it to the airport alive. I did and unfortunately I had to come back to Scotland. Last night is how the beginning of a holiday should be. Only on day 14 did I make friends when they are gone again the very next day. Cruel.