C: Yes, you're quite right, whats the point of going abroad if
you're just another tourist carted around in buses surrounded
by sweaty (miners sons???) from Kettering and Boventry with their
bloth baps and their bardigans and their transistor radios
complaining about the tea, ooh they dont make it properly here
do they - and stopping at endless Majorcan bodegas selling fish
and chips and Watneys Red Barrel and calamares and two veg and
sitting in their cotton sunfrocks squirting Timothy Whites sun
cream all over their puffy raw swollen purulent flesh cos they
overdid it on the first day.