Josh Martin is a UK-based Kiwi journalist who writes across business and travel topics.
OPINION: I drink tea now as much as coffee. I apologise unnecessarily. I count pub walks as a hobby. I live in fear of a rail replacement bus. I have both NZ and UK passports, and I tut at queue-jumping. I’ve assimilated enough, but there is a limit.
I cannot commit to the holiday Hunger Games of Brits abroad, reserving resort sunbeds before breakfast. Sometimes at dawn.
With rivalries as intense as the Euros, UK holidaymakers battle against fellow lounger-hoggers, the Germans, the French and the Dutch, for poolside-proximity supremacy. Never mind that you won’t actually sit poolside until after 11am, but when you do, you must have a base of two, preferably four, sunbeds for you and your family.
Despite feeble pleas from management of “no reserving sunbeds” and some attempts by poorly paid staff to remove unattended towels and glasses bordering the pool area, it’s hopeless. Nothing seemed to quash this race to baggsies a seat in the sun, even if you don’t want it, because if you don’t, you’ll miss out.
