I rarely have a swipe at my fellow bloggers. There are enough ignorant savages out there ready to have a go. So I really should not wade in. But, I do need to get this off my chest before we start. Some bloggers will sell their souls and prostrate themselves for a bit of unearned product. The mere mention of “free samples” gets them to forget their principles, their integrity and their independence. Shame on them.
I was 19 years of age and we (the Lads) were on our first Spanish apartment holiday. We were the height of Irish male sophistication, looking like six milk bottles for the first couple of days and like a breed of strange glowing lobsters for the balance of the fortnight. We proudly displayed and contrasted our tans beside the pool. Me a golden bronze (in my head) and the others a more swarthy mahogany (in their heads). Time by the pool would be spent recovering from the previous night’s excess and preparing ourselves for that yet to come. This would involve lying in the Feungirola sun, feeling like death warmed up before being brave enough to have the first bottle of San Miguel.
