An Irish woman's social, political and domestic commentary
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| GUBU An Irish woman's social, political and domestic commentary |
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Wednesday, October 13, 2004
German Tourists
I'm not racist but.....do they ever change? I've just enjoyed a most relaxing break in Majorca on the Playa de Muro, a gorgeous white sandy beach accessed directly from our hotel. With the temperature in the late twenties (C) it was comfortably warm, swam everyday in the Med (no seaweed, mysterious fishies or stones), and at an all inclusive hotel I was relieved of even the simple decisions like where to eat each night. But there they were, as they are on every sun holiday. The 50 and 60-something Germans, looking like former porn stars (the men have big hair and moustaches, husbands and wives tanned into leather). And there they were, leaving their towels on the prime sunbeds before breakfast every morning hogging the best spots without having to be there because the rest of us are too cowardly to move their stuff. Elbowing me (visibly pregnant) out of the way at the buffet, panicking lest I should help myself to the last prawn in the paella. I used to think this was the behaviour of a certain class of German rather than Germans. But two years ago whilst holidaying in a quaint victorian hotel on Lake Garda my husband and I became friendly with a distinguished professor and his wife. Educated and refined, I thought, I have judged them harshly. Of course there are nice German tourists. At the same hotel, there were four coveted tables for 2 situated on a deck over the lake. As you couldn't reserve the table, it was up to you to arrive early for dinner to secure your place. On our last night, we came down in plenty of time so we could have a rosemantic final meal. We entered the dining room and headed for the doors to the deck. Just then Mr Professor speeded in by us, still wearing his day shirt and shorts, passed us out (not easy to do in a small dining room) plonked his day bag on the remaining table, and gave us a big grin as he passed us again on his way upstairs to change for dinner at a leisurely pace. We stood open mouthed and the English couples dining were all aghast at this behaviour. There was a group pause while we all considered our position. The other couples wondered would we dare to move the bag. Of course we wilted and didn't. When, 40 minutes later, the powdered, puffed and shaved Germans arrived and commandeered their prime table, the rest of us exchanged knowing judgemental looks which said "they're all the same". Creeps. posted by Sarah | 09:03 0 comments
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