In the next instalment of my Best and Worst Holidays Series we hear from Natalka who blogs at I want to buy a house. She is sharing with us her worst holiday to date!
The Worst Holiday of My Life
If you’ve stumbled upon my blog before, then you’ll know what to expect in this post. If not, then let me warn you, I can be fairly overdramatic… especially when I’m telling a story. Check out this story-time I wrote depicting the worst day of my life if you don’t believe me. But anyway, here goes nothing. This is the story of the worst holiday of my life.
How it all Started
I’m going to start with a little bit of background info. Boring, but necessary. I was only a child, and me and my mum had come on holiday with her partner and his son. They had been together for years and there was nothing remotely miserable about this statement. I was the older of the two children, and the girl, which automatically granted me the rights to the most attention.
We had gone to Gran Canaria for 10 days, and were staying in a posh apartment complex on an all-inclusive deal. Unknown to us, my mums partners parents had decided to book themselves onto the same holiday. Although my mum wasn’t best pleased when they rocked up, the childcare element was quite handy. However, me and my kind of brother spent most of the days and nights in the kids clubs, so the need for childcare went out the window.
From what I remember, it was a great family holiday. We spent days by the pool, or at the beach, or being dragged around street markets. We spent nights in the hotel, watching the free entertainment and passing out really early with sunstroke. Despite the arrival of my grandparents-in-law, spirits were high. Obviously, this is the worst holiday of my life so don’t expect things to stay this way.
Where it all went wrong
It was either the 6th or 7th day of our holiday when things went downhill, fast. Neither me, or my mum, can remember the exact day. But we know it was close enough to the end to cause a panic. You may or may not have stayed in a hotel where your room key acts as the electricity key as well? Well that’s the sort of hotel this was. You check in, get given a card that gives you access to your room, and once you get in the room you put it in the little slot and, ta-da, you have light. Not as popular as it used to be. But as I understand, it is still fairly common practice.
These key cards are brilliant, if you’re concerned about the environment. Basically, it means that you can’t use any electricity in the room whatsoever without the key card in the slot. This also mean that when you’re out, the room will have no power. Do you know what needs power to operate? Doorbells.
Why am I harping on about key cards and electricity? Well, other than the fact that I’m from Dorset and very environmentally aware, the whole key card system is the sole reason my dream family holiday turned into the worst one of my life.
It was the evening and, like many other tourists in our hotel, we were downstairs enjoying the hotels free entertainment. Little to our knowledge, the apartment blocks above our heads were being ransacked by local criminals. Now, I know that sounds dramatic. But when you think about it, it really was. A gang had targeted the hotel, and waited for a busy evening to make their way through all the floors. They rang each doorbell. Remember that the doorbell will only work if the key card has been left in the slot. If a doorbell rang, they just ran off down the hall. But if the doorbell didn’t ring, a small child was hoisted up into the windows (that were never properly secured) above the doors. He would let in the rest of the party, and they would take anything that they could get.
How did this get worse?
So yeah, we got robbed. Along with half of the hotel guests. They weren’t interested in clothes, but took any technology or jewellery they could find. It wasn’t until an hour or so after the discovery, that my mum noticed our passports were gone. Not her boyfriends or his sons, just mine and my mums. Which is actually really terrifying now that I’m old enough to understand the reasoning behind this.
So our passports are missing. And our flight is in 3/4 days. No one has any leads, or can give us any information about our belongings (despite the easily identifiable faces in the CCTV footage). As far as my mum was concerned, we were stuck in Gran Canaria. As far as I was concerned, I was never going back to school and was going to spend the rest of my life in bikinis by the pool. Isn’t it funny how perspective changes with age.
We got lucky
This time we got lucky. Whether the thieves got scared when they realised the level of crime that stealing a passport actually was, or they didn’t have any idea how to shift a passport, or they just felt bad. We’ll never know. But something made them change their minds, because the next morning, someone found both of our passports (with our boarding passes) on the floor above us. Just lying there. No care in the world. They just dumped them.
Personally, I’d have rather got our camera back, and spent an extra two weeks on holiday. But my mum was pleased with the discovery. And the nightmare seemed to be ending. Finally, we had a way home. Out of that misery. You’d think that the hotel would try and compensate us somehow. Well not just us, every guest at the hotel. I mean, in all fairness, it was their negligence that allowed this gang into the apartment complex. They got through over 60 rooms, without anyone noticing a thing. Despite the CCTV.
But of course, we were offered nothing but an apology.
So there you have it. I got robbed in Gran Canaria on what should have been the perfect summer holiday. No one was injured. And nothing of sentimental value was even taken. But it was a huge blow to our little families pride. And the reason we never went abroad again. I haven’t been on a holiday with my mum since. We got used to staying at home. Where our doorbell always works no matter where the key card is.
If you’ve enjoyed this post, why not check out my blog for similarly chatty and overdramatic nonsense. I can’t wait to read about your holiday nightmares! This was a great idea for a series by the way… Over and out.
Wow, thanks to Natalka for sharing her nightmare of a family summer holiday. It is my worst nightmare to be robbed while on holiday, I hope it never happens.
Natalka is a budget, lifestyle, and finance blogger documenting her penny pinching journey towards saving enough money to buy her own house on her blog, I want to buy a house. Based in Bournemouth, and juggling her Masters with her full time job and her blog, you’d think she had no troubles saving money. Well you’ll have to check out her blog to get those kinds of answers. Natalka can also be found on Twitter, Instagram and Pinterest.
And if you would like to feature in my Best and Worst Holidays series on the blog, please send me an email at firstname.lastname@example.org.