Where's Everyone Going For Their Holidays

I am not rolling the dice anymore by playing holiday roulette even if the naysayers quote the world as a big place.Folk chudder on saying like ohh Bob we are off to Mexico to see the Mexicans and yet when they get there they spend most of their time on the beach with a quick outing to chicken istza or some bombed out mayhan ruin.Anyway everything can be seen on the you-tube and as a matter of principle we are not going back to Salou as the night time t'entertainment was bobbins so we have just booked a great deal with Jet 2 for January back to the blessed Dorm.If I conducted a u-gov pole most folk interviewed would simply say they wanted R and R time at the beach with fun sun and copious amounts of the sangria.The Riviera beach hotel is adults only and comes number three on tripadvisor so happy days.It's location is proper banging and just across the road from the famous Uncle Peds bar.If it ain't broke then don't fix it because a holiday is for chilling and enjoying yourself not for seeing loads of old ruins but fair fooks to them that do explore and in the immortal words of Lucritias each to their own.One mans meat is another mans poisin. I have traveled our round earth and IMHO nowhere does it better than Beni. If I had to recommend somewhere though for the fidgity sightseers amongst you then I would recommend Rome as that was rather good.Highlights were the Coliseum the Popes gaff and for food the amazing Hard Rock Cafe which did the best pollo in town.Stay away from the crappy pizzas in nirvana piazza as theyr no better than Icelands own.

Heres a picture from outside the coliseum with two dodgy extras trying to releave you of your sheckles to get a pic took with them.

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The fat sted lad on the left has got himself in a right proper lather over something and the pecker on the right looks like an extra out of Monty Python.Give me 10 minutes pairing in that arena.Imagine for a second the scenario as the crowd bay and cry out ever impatient for blood.You should all go and see the Colosseum. Fifty-thousand Romans watching every movement of your sword... willing you to make the killer blow.The silence before the strike and the noise afterwards. It rises. It rises up... like a storm as if you were the thunder god himself and the crowd cry out your name ..Bob ..Bob lad .. Bob lad ..Bob Bob eh. ...I wonder if they brewed Tanqueray and ice back then ?
 
Wales away is too much. It’s a laugh a minute from the airport bar to the journey home.

The entire country is together and we’re warmly welcomed wherever we go. No seventeen year olds from Buxton or Marple thinking they’re Ian Brown.
 

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