Mayhem in Mallorca

What was meant to be a relaxing holiday in Mallorca turned out to be an accidental clubbing holiday in Magaluf. How can my friend Laura and I go on a clubbing holiday accidently you may be wandering? Well, the first step was booking our flights. We knew when we wanted to go away so we booked the cheapest flights possible for those dates, which happened to be to Mallorca. About a month later we realised that we didn't have accommodation, so once again we looked for the cheapest accommodation possible, and found a hotel in Magaluf. We didn't really think much about the hotel being in Magaluf, despite its reputation, because we just wanted to go somewhere with a beach to get some sunshine in April. However, when we arrived at our hotel we found that it was actually located right in the heart of the clubbing strip, so really there was no way to avoid going out. Even though it wasn't the high season, Magaluf was still full of people, and it seems to be a very attractive destination for stag and hen dos.

Although Mallorca is a Spanish island, it was the closest I've felt to British culture on my year of living in Spain. Almost everyone was British, from the tourists to the workers who could barely speak Spanish, and I also watched the most English television I've watched in a long time. Even though I rarely watch daytime TV when I’m actually in England, I found myself watching Jeremy Kyle and This Morning every day just because I could.

We did get our wish to be near the beach but it wasn't exactly ideal sunbathing conditions as it was pretty windy. However, both of us still managed to come back sunburnt – classic British tourists.

In between sunbathing whilst wearing lots of layers we also visited Palma, the capital of Mallorca, to do some sight-seeing.

It wasn't what we expected but we had an amazing holiday, and we definitely made the most of the situation. What wasn't such a nice surprise, however, was when we had two separate flights cancelled trying to return to Bilbao, and then being stranded in the airport without any information for two hours before being taken to a hotel for another two hours, and then returning to the airport at 5 in the morning to finally fly back at 7am without any sleep. All part of the la aventura española I guess...