Having recently returned from a week in Portugal I noticed how full of Brits and Irish people it was. I can’t say that this was what I was expecting, I never really choose to go abroad to be surrounded by people from my home town. Nevertheless I was with my man and no amount of build me up buttercup was going to put a dampener on my hols. There was a lovely little square in the centre dubbed ‘The Old Town’ which was full of cute little fish restaurants along the seafront and some not so cute British looking bars. There were however a lot of young families and couple frequenting these places (and the odd stag do which we tried to avoid of course).
One day we decided to check out ‘The Strip’ in a different part of town. Not to be confused with the Las Vegas Strip and everything glorious it has to hold there. This strip however was a debauchery of loud English stag and hen do’s, followed by even louder northern lasses looking for a “good time”. I use the word good loosely as who knows how good anything is after 8 Jagerbombs and 12 double vodka and cokes.
Neon lights and the promise of 2-4-1 jelly shots at happy hour engulf these randy holiday makers.  What makes for a sexy 3am finish? An abundance of alcohol and a Bon Jovi track to boot. ‘Yes we really are halfway there’. Brummie girls followed by young Irish men fill the streets of the Portugal strip tonight.
What makes these holiday makers sleep with whatever is on offer at that time at night? Girls in bikinis, guys with six packs all smelling of Hawaiian Tropic in the midday sun is just the beginning of Temptation Island for that week.  Drinking in the heat equipped with half naked testosterone roaming the sand dunes is enough to make many people turn on their backs. Some of these girls and guys may not dream of partaking in such tom-foolery back on home turf. Men and women who have come on these single sex holidays. You know the ones ‘Whores on tour’ or ‘Stags to Shag’. They suddenly forget all about their relationships back home and the rules of relationship norms. I.e. no sexy cuddles on the beach or on frolicking under clothes on the dance floor (because that still counts you know). Partners are forgotten back home for some of these amorous holidaymakers and the next 7 days are a free for all apparently.  It’s a no holds barred 2 for the price of 1 action.
The thrill of being in a different country, a hot Irish accent and endless fishbowl cocktails is all too tempting for some happy campers.   Sleeping with a stranger on holiday is seen as more acceptable than sleeping with someone from your local apparently. It’s totally acceptable and more often than not encouraged. ‘Oh you’re on holiday, have some fun’ or ‘what happens on the strip, stays in the strip’. Until pictures get posted on Facebook that is. It can become like a huge challenge for people out there to sleep with as many people as possible in the time they have. Sun worshippers getting as drunk as humanly possible and putting the evening’s actions down to ‘maybe my drink got spiked’ and acute memory loss it would seem.
The more notches in the sand the better, especially for the girls it can seem. However try this one nighter action back at home and you take the name fishbowl to a whole other level.