Holiday To Tenerife: Part 3: Club Tropicana Drinks are 4 for a ‘Tener’

Yesterday on my excursions I found to be the least eye opening yet. Having frequented in total 2 separate Irish pubs and although being half-Irish my first pint of Guinness.

We went to this awesome cove type beach earlier in the day and watched people with budgets and hook-ups have immense fun on all types of aquatic paraphernalia. Looking out to sea was outstanding, the sun itself reflected off the water in a unique way, even differently to Brighton where in my logical mind they are both stars and water.

The sand was grey and volcanic looking although I wouldn’t be surprised if it was once golden yellow sand that had been hopelessly contaminated by the ash of 40 per day chain smoking The Sun holiday voucher collectors.

When facing in from the beach you see a row of about 20 different restaurants all selling the same food, the same menu, the same yellow 40 benson per day stained food photos (a filter Instagram is yet to offer) and the same Danny De Vito looking Mediterranean midget. “Chica, hungry? Step inside” they would repeatedly pitch to lobster skinned Pats.

Later on we went for a traditional all you can eat Chinese Buffet as I had a strong desire to eat untold amounts of umami. Eventually we were offered shots with pictures of nude art at the bottom. We took it easy from that point, after tiring of getting ripped off at the local tourist attractions we got a few bottles of Amstel and sauntered off to the beach.

Here we met a mother and daughter who had been kicked out of their digs that night, stranded with all their luggage. The daughter had moved here ten days ago like a tropical Dick Whittington seeking her fortune as a club PR and excreted the correct frequency of confidence that may draw inebriated punters into an establishment.

Real Mannequins Have Curves

The mother was there just for a ‘fag run’ a practice of paying a large sum of money to have fun, spend money, buy tobacco in large quantities returning it to Blackpool and presumably selling it all making a profit on the trip and expenses. I’m no Alan Sugar but this seems more of a Robin Hood type service than any scalable business model, selling the cheap tobacco to the tax oppressed Blackpool natives can’t be THAT lucrative.

The girl and Mum were staying with a ‘nutcase’ 52 year old lady called Lisa who had 3 dogs. The mention of the dogs I assume was to indicate her lack of sanity. I asked but they weren’t overly forthcoming on the details as I felt maybe it took 2 to tango in the conflict. Either way it ended in a physical bust up with the daughter revealing a bite mark on her leg. I told her she needs to get it disinfected as human bite marks can be nasty. “Dunt worry she has false teeth” the girl said somehow suggesting that the severity of a bite wound is linked to the material of ones nashers. They mentioned the woman to be an alcoholic in another attack on the strangers integrity, I thought that maybe being bitten by an alcoholic might be the best option as the gallons of Vodka serve as a natural disinfectant.

Very shortly after the two grew tired of us and opted to sit on a far away bench after finding we had little in common.