Cyprus - Great Inspiration for SAS in The Confessional!

I have now been to Cyprus six times and we always stay in Paphos, so I pretty much know it like the back of my hand. It’s home from home for me and I will never become bored of the place. Beautiful golden sandy beaches overlooked by rows of amazing hotels, all with their own gardens, pools, jacuzzi’s and bars.

We first stayed at The St George, Close to coral Beach and I thought this was amazingly stunning all marble and chandeliers. The evening entertainment was fabulous and I still hold fond memories of the first two holidays spent there. The Athena beach was just as lovely having evening entertainment and Greek dancing around the swimming pool by night. The Pathaneon, was my first ever attempt at an all inclusive holiday, which was marvellous although we rarely left the hotel because of it and I guess a lot of local businesses have suffered for it. And last summer we stayed at the Cypriot Maris a uber modern five star hotel, which was just brilliant. They were all like staying in paradise to me and I get a warm fuzzy feeling when I reminisce of these holidays and which is why I have to write about them in My New Crime Novels.

We've pretty much done all the touristy sightseeing for southern Cyprus, Kurium the Ancient Greek Amphitheatre and ancient city, the quaint little colonial town high in the Troodos mountains and Makarios’ birth place, plus his final resting place. I don’t understand why people find this guy a hero though. At the end of the day he was a man of the cloth who dabbled in politics and backed out of a deal that was made with the Turkish Cypriots back in the 1950’s. His Political decision made the Turkish government use it as an excuse to invade Northern Cyprus, which resulted in the deaths of many Greek Cypriots, yet they think he’s their saviour! I just struggle to understand it.

Whilst I am on the subject of the last divided city of Nicosia and the country the Turkish occupy, have opened it’s borders recently and on my last visit we went into the Northern part of Cyprus visiting Famagusta, which has been abandoned by the Turks as they say the Greek Cypriots can have it back one day. What’s the point in that? The place is crumbling ruins! We also wondered around Famagusta old town, which grieved me because most of the people there are from mainland Turkey and and occupy other peoples homes and businesses.

I also discovered the church across the road had been converted to a temple. Something I found sacrilegious and I wasn't impressed as the Greek Cypriots have left all the temples in the south as they were left during in the civil war in case there is one day peace and the Turkish Cypriots decide to return home one day. Though the trip there and past no man’s land was wholly depressing and we travelled back tad subdued from the experience I felt it was necessary to see both sides and hear the stories of the civil war from survivors to make one’s own mind up.

At the end of the day whenever someone tells me the North is nicer than the South of Cyprus at least I can categorically say it is not. The North may have been a trendy stomping ground for the rich and famous, but those days are long gone as the locals have left everything to crumble and disintegrate. Give me Paphos any day.

The Dyonisis Museum in Paphos has an amazing collection of Greek Mosaics, the castle t the port and the Valley of the Kings out towards Kato Paphos offers great ancient historical culture.




The pretty traditional village of Omodus offers a look into life in peaceful Cypriot villages of days gone by. Men sat out chatting in the coffee shops while the women gossip while they make beautiful pieces of lace. We went to a nunnery, which was fascinating. How they live in those huge black smocks in searing heat I do not know.

We’ve taken trips to Adonis and Aphrodites fountains and swam in a fresh water waterfall, and seen the mountains on a beach buggy trip, swam in the sea on turtle beach and held baby turtles that have been rescued from certain death. And the fun we’ve had in the evenings in traditional Greek Taverna’s over the years have been priceless, Zenia and Petros’s Place, Angelo’s, Zsa Zsa and Flintstone bar are some of my personal favourites and think all are still open to this day.

I’ve loved Cyprus so much I’ve written a novel set out there. A crime/military piece (as we have a British Military base out there) with a smidge of erotic romance for good measure. Still procrastinating about publishing that one. But in the meantime if you want to try my My Beyond Series all details are just a click away!
Alison Website: http://www.alisonkershaw.live

Supernatural writing inspiration for The Beyond Series /Greece

Greece/Falaraki Rhodes/Kos/Porus

Ah, where do I start? Well, I went to Greece and Athens first of all at the age of 20. I’d always wanted to do a spot of backpacking and island hopping as I thought myself as a bit of an adventurer back then. So we hit Athens, at night in searing heat. It stank to high heaven of rubbish left out all day in the humidity and I was so tired I just wanted to hit the hay. We found a hostel and asked what we could get for 2000 Dracma.(Currency before the Euro.)





 Not much it seemed. Two cot like camp beds and a fan in a room! It was vile, but it was late and I was tired and hungry, so my female friend and I went out, got smashed so I didn't have to think of the roaches!
The next morning we got out of there so fast, I didn’t even use amenities in fear of catching something nasty and we caught a hydrofoil to Poros Island. We went to the local tourist centre and asked again what we could get for 2000 Dracma a night (I’d read in travel journals this was a fair price for a decent room), and to our delight we were taken to a very clean and fully furnished apartment, with balcony!

There wasn’t a pool, but the soft white sandy beach was just a stone’s throw away. Porus town was quaint and quiet. Ever watched the film Mama Mia? Well, Poros was a bit like that. All white washed buildings and blue doors, windows, chairs…. Everything white and blue! It was like paradise to us. And so that was the end of my Greek island hopping adventure! Not much I know, but we did hop over to at least one island with a back pack on my back. After six glorious days we returned to Athens for a Forum for a charity group we were both members of.

Leo’s were the youth section of Lions Clubs International, a massive charity and welfare organisation today with over 13 million members worldwide. Back in the 90’s the members of Leo’s around Europe would take turns in hosting the annual European convention and in 1991 it was Greece’s turn. The hotel was positively Five Star compared to the flee pit we stayed in on the first night in Athens.

We were treated to a show of countries, a ceremony were each country in Europe showed off their prowess and achievements. The Italians had a stall full of amazing pasta dishes and chianti, the Turkish Leo’s brought a kind of dumpling sauce dish (which was heaven) and a vodka type spirit, the Germans brought sausage, schnitzel and beer, Spanish brought tapas and wines and the British Leo’s…. Well we came up with Gin and Tonic and Blackpool rock! I felt a bit bad that we don’t really have an official national dish – some say it’s roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, others argue it’s Indian Curries. But surprisingly the bitterness of the G&T and the sweetness of the rock was an amazing success.

We were treated to entertainment in the form of Greek dancing, whilst the English Male Leo’s attempted to chat up the very fashion conscious and rich Italian ladies in Leo’s, without much success. The Italians Leo’s fascinated me, they arrived at the hotel with enough luggage for a month’s trip rather than six days! The most extravagant of the ladies would change outfits at least 3 to 4 times a day and never the same piece of apparel was worn twice. No clever mixing and matching with their wardrobes! 

We had a trip out to historical landmarks of Athens – like an ancient Greek ampetheatre and ruined temple. We had volleyball competition on the beach and water polo in the pool. I joined in with most activities and forums held there, not just because our Lions club back home were sponsoring my friend and myself, but we wanted to fully immerse ourselves in the experience. I’ve never been to a forum like that since and now I’m a grown up Lion, I would like to attend one of these events again someday.

One evening the British contingency decided to host an after dinner party in one of the hotel bedrooms. Our signature party piece was always Toga fancy dress and it was exhilarating to see so many other Leo’s from all over Europe join in the fun. The men took several bedroom doors off the hinges to give the corridor more feeling of space. The bath was filled with cold water to create a make shift drinks cooler and the Brits ran the bar. The Turkish and Italian Leo's got out their little gas burners and cooked some of the pasta and dumpling dishes they had left over from the show of countries and the Finish Leo’s introduced us all to their famous Black Vodka. Wowee! It was strong stuff and amazingly we all made it down to the breakfast room the next morning still wearing our makeshift togas from the hotels bedsheets! Can’t think why on earth the hotel wasn’t happy! I mean we did put the doors back on the right way round! Lol.

The Gala Dinner to end the Forum in style was amazing. First we were all taken to a Greek mansion by the coach load and walked over a hill to see the most beautiful gardens all lit up with candles by night. We ate on the terraces as a live band played and we danced the night away in our ball gowns and penguin suits. Brilliant memories writing this and I think I need to add this scene to a novel someday.

 Falaraki on Rhodes Island was a complete contrast a year later. This was my second girly sunshine holiday. At first we were shipped out to Lindos. The hotel was horrendous, our room was basically a carved out cave, beds were mattresses on carved out stone and ants were crawling everywhere.

I think I had to check we weren’t staying in The Fred Flinstone Hotel. So I packed my two friends up and shipped us all out to Falaraki. As I felt I was the expert in getting on the spot accommodation after my Island hoping expedition the year before. I got us a three bed apartment for just 3000 Dracma a night and a refund from the Tour operator who sent us blindly to Flinstones Hotel. The rest of the holiday was a blur of late nights, pool bar nightclubs, street parties and the first ever bungy jumping crane in a pool by the beach that I had ever seen.

We stayed up late and had beach parties and there wasn’t much sunbathing done, but I went at a time when club land sunny destinations like Falaraki and Ibiza were just starting out. The older generations said it wouldn’t last and acid house parties and all night raves in the sun would be a thing of the past, but twenty two years later the next generation has come along and they still dance to the beats I danced to when I was still a fresh faced youth.  I needed a week to recover, but at least I can say I did it once!

Kos was another 'mergh' type of holiday with the friend from New Year in Portugal. Again she copped off with a man at the beginning of the holiday, but out did herself this time and had a Shirley Valentine moment with Nicholas, the owner of the apartment! However, there were highlights. Kos Town was a lovely oldie worldie port with pretty communual gardens and shops to walk around. The Greek night at the apartments and around the pool were smashing – quite literally. Nicholas’ brother Demitri picked me out to dance the fire dance and we smash lots of plates after. Great stuff.

We also a had wonderful evening up in the mountains and in an outdoor nightclub, where lots of Greek food and wine was consumed before danced off in the open air to Zorba The Greek. Oh and I saw my first enormous green cricket with a horny tail. Granted I screamed, but I was fascinated with it too. No desire to return though. Altogether Greece has given me some great holiday experiences and plenty of situations to write about in my books.

Visit Alison's Website www.alisonkershaw.com

Supernatural Inspiration The Beyond Series / Portugal

Portugal

I have been to Portugal or the Algarve three times now. The first was with a group of 12 friends and we hired a huge six bedroom villa complete with patio, barbecue and pool. It was great fun. We messed around the pool by day, went out at night and partied then messed around some more by the pool later on in the early hours of the morning.

The Villa was in a little village called Boliqueme, just outside the marina and golfing town of Villamora. High up in the hills the sea breeze couldn’t reach us and our pool area had amazing views of the valley below.  On the night of arrival a member of the party gave us all some “fun” Portuguese Ludo notes, the currency before the Euro. He'd done a really good job except and as a joke he put one of our friends grinning face on the note with a cartoon crown on his head. It was meant to be a private joke amongst us, but one friend got a little tipsy in the bar and accidently paid for a her drinks with hers. No-one noticed, not even the barman realised and accepted them as real currency! Needless to say, when she woke up the next morning and realised her mistake, we made a group pact never to return to said bar again.

We went down into the marina and like Puerta Banus, it was full of expensive yachts surrounded by designer’s shops restaurants, bars and of course an Irish pub complete with outside fountain… I guess the architects never considered the Brits abroad when adding certain features to the Marina! If you’re uncertain of what I’m getting at just think, Irish Pub and Fountain! Yup it was full of revellers splashing around every night! I loved the food and became quite addicted to Clam Chowder and other fresh seafood dishes.

We were only there for a week and it was much more a holiday for friends who don’t see each other very often to get together, but we did manage a barbecue party. A member of our group had family also holidaying out there we so we invited them, another friend had friends who lived close by so they came too and the owner/manager of the villa lived next door so we invited them along until there was about twenty of us. A decent number to call a party!

We had a trip out to Albefera, which was much more the old Portuguese architecture one would assume Portuguese towns should look like. Winding pedestrian streets, no traffic and quaint little shops and restaurants. Very Civilised. Until we went to Montechoro, which I can only describe as the Magaluf of the Algarve. Or what we saw of it anyway. It was the only day that the weather was truly hideous and so we decided on an afternoon pub crawl down the main strip.

It was such a giggle, the 12 of us getting merry and silly and as it was our last night, when we returned to the villa a huge vat of wine that had been untouched all week, so that was cracked open.

with much merriment and skinny dipping in the villa pool until the sun came up! Hilarious end to a great holiday.

The Second time I went was dreadful. Just myself and a different female friend. We thought it a good idea to go for a week just after Christmas and spend the New Year there. Besides it being freezing, with no hire car to go anywhere, the apartments were much more family orientated. One family in particular became rather over friendly with my mate on the first night there. She danced all night with their daughter and told them all I fancied their 21 year old son!!! I wondered why his mum and dad were constantly patting me on the back as they talked to me. It then took several days to get the message across to my new found stalker that I wasn’t interested. 

My friend then copped with a guy from Stoke who she then had a holiday romance with and I spent the best part of a week having to hang out with his friend who was several prawns short of a barbecue as well as the stalker she’d introduced me to on the first night, but enough of that disastrous holiday.

My third time was a much more pleasant experience. The friends who lived out near Bolliqueme invited three of us from the original holiday party back to stay with them. They showed us around the Algarve properly and even took us on the slowest train EVER to Faro, Portugal’s capital, where I could take in some much needed culture. *sigh* It was only a week, but we hit some of our old haunts we’d enjoyed so much a few years earlier and caught up with old friends. A lovely time, but I’ve never really been inspired to put Portugal or Spain into one of my novels as a great destination. Maybe I will when I run out of other ideas. Lol!

Alison's Website www.alisonkershaw.com

A Viva L'Espania!!! Beyond Series Inspiration

As I have just returned from Marbella for a last minute holiday, it got me thinking about other Spanish holidays I've been on through my life, and I've actually been on a few now I've started to reminisce.

Torremolinos – This was my first ever holiday abroad and I was only about 8 or 9. I loved the heat, playing around the pool, entering the hotel's beauty pageant, talent contest and fancy dress competition in the kids club. I remember eating paella for the first time and thinking it was the most amazing food I’d ever tatsted (bearing in mind we didn’t eat a curry until I was about 10!) We stayed in The Principe Sol Hotel, it had all marble interior and velour seats. It felt very luxurious and was very fashionable for the early 80’s. 

We went to a bullring and I bought an American Indian style dress with tassels on its hem and sleeves and I loved it. I also bought a Spanish flamenco doll in a pink dress and a pencil case for the 1982 world cup, a blue shawl, (like my nan's because she told me it was fashionable!). It seems so vague and I really only remember the souvenirs and the things I enjoyed the most. I do recall seeing my first beggar woman and her child at a market and playing the old space invaders games in the hotel lobby.

Cala Millor – As I was a bit older this was our second holiday abroad with my parents and we had two weeks there. I’d never had a two week holiday before and we didn’t do it again. We were unfortunate enough to be caught in the hurricane season. There were tornadoes out at sea and my brother and I were so bored because it was predominately a German adult's only hotel, there was no entertainment for kids nor was the ballroom dancing and music in English, so we would go swimming in the hotel pool in the middle of the storms and at night.

It wasn’t all doom and gloom, dad passed the time people watching and giving names to those who fascinated him the most – in particular I remember Helga and Herr Flick from the TV show Allo Allo who attracted his attention the most. Songs like Jermaine Stewarts 'We don’t have to' and the pop song 'Brother Louis Louis Louis' played in all the bars and these songs still remind me of that holiday. Luckily my dad found a Brits Bar, called the Sportsman, where there was nightly entertainment, including Christmas Day, which was celebrated once a week!!

It was carnival season and most hotels had put on floats to parade down the main street. I was mortified that I’d missed out on the opportunity to get on a carnival float. It had always been a secret ambition of mine since I was really young. I'd always wanted to be a morris dancer or a carnival queen because I’d get to take part in a carnival. Even when I worked for Barclays I put myself forward to be on the float and I only ended up as a walking footballer collecting money at the side of the lorry, while all the pretty office managers favourite girls got to dress up in period costume and throw sweets at the crowd. 

(Not that I'm bitter or anything!). So I missed out on being on a float, but I was fascinated by the procession as I always am.

I was sitting in a bar one early evening with my family and was fascinated by the fact that children went to school at that time, a girl opened a classroom door straight onto a side street at the back of some shops and I was amazed that the Spanish schools didn’t look like our schools back home. I know, I’m a bit mad, I bought my first imitation pink and white pearl necklace and bracelet on this shopping strip, which I thought was uber trendy.

Estepona – Our third family holiday abroad and this time it was with my Aunt, Uncle, Cousin and Gran who came with us to Estepona close to Marbella. The holiday didn’t start off well, because my dad liked a bargain and to save money. So as with most holidays he got a deal with a contact at work who had two apartments and a car that came with the holiday… A twenty year old Cortina that had trouble starting up and being able to drive it was hit and miss. 

The apartments were nice enough, but the pool was tiny and in the middle of nowhere. My Uncle however got an apartment at a golfing complex with bars, restaurants and a massive pool further up the road, so we spent most of our time there. He also got a decent hire car that didn’t breakdown in the middle of nowhere or blow out great plumes of embarrassing blue smoke! I clearly remember having to push the car down the road to get it started!!

We did a couple of trips out. One was to Puerta Banus – the playground for the rich, the famous and the infamous. This area is known as Costa del Crime and British Criminals fled to Puerta Banus with their ill-gotten gains.


My brother unwittingly had his photo taken stood next to a black Ferrari, which weeks later appear on the Cook Report, the owner was a notorious British Bank Robber who was on Britains most wanted. I loved all the expensive white yachts, one was so big it almost could’ve passed for a small ship. I had a good nosey inside and felt a tinge of jealousy as I saw a huge Arabian family sitting around eating and chatting. and I thought them so rich and exotic as I've always had a curiosity for cultures I don’t know much about.

The shops were amazing and beautiful all rich designer gear and I fancied myself on Howards Way, as it was a popular show at that time about the fabulous and gorgeous at a sailing club in a wealthy English town. I think it was Britain’s attempt at Dallas and Dynasty.  We also went to Estepona town, which was a pretty, traditional looking Spanish town.

We took a trip to Gibraltar, which was interesting going back to a British colony, but with a Spanish town feel, with red post box and telephone boxes. The monkeys were terrifying and so were the people in the town we had to drive through to get in and out of passport control at Gibraltar. The Rock is a bone of contention with the Spanish and apparently they still create road blocks and try to make life difficult for everyone there even today. 

Cala Dor – This was my first holiday without my parents. I’d just turned eighteen and my friend and I went away with her sister and friend and her parents, but they were there just as a backup, in case we got ill or in trouble! We went off doing our own thing most of the time. This generally meant sunbathing on what felt like a beautiful secluded beach, whilst we eyed up the local talent, or we sat around the hotel pool, whilst eyeing up the local talent or sitting in the Hollywood bar (our favourite) whilst eyeing up the local talent! You get the gist, I was a teenage girl on holiday abroad with three other teenage girls all mad about boys! Enough said.

Naturally I always got the friends dregs, but I didn’t care, I actually became quite proficient at brushing off over amorous not-so-pretty looking males who were friends of my friend's hunk-arama's she always managed to catch, without hurting their feelings. I even got taken on a bike ride (which I realise was totally dangerous and irresponsible) to a local tapas bar at stupid O'clock in the morning by one of the bar staff at Hollywood's. I was amazed that they worked all day and all night then partied with the other tourist workers in private Tapas Bars well into the early hours of the morning. I don't know where they got their energy from,  but I loved it.

We also were taken out on dates with two waiters from a restaurant we regularly ate in. I naively thought we were going as friends! Tsk! My friend wasn’t happy that I rebuffed my waiter date, but I just didn’t do holiday romances. I thought then, as I do now, they’re pointless and stupid. How many documentaries have we seen of Shirley Valentines getting suckered into a holiday con-man’s charms!

My first of just two girly beach holidays and although I loved it because I was young and frivolous, it’s not something I could do every year. We did manage to get a bit of culture. We booked a trip to Palma (the old city), my friend thought it was Palma Nova the party capital of Mallorca. She was mortified when I took her around an old medieval market and an impressive cathedral, although I was confused why she’d agreed to a cultural day out at the time.

Magaluf – This was the last time I went to a party town for a holiday and it was only two years ago and for a friends 40^th birthday no less. I loved lounging around the pool all day in the heat and sunshine amongst a big group of friends, which as holidays go doesn’t happen very often for me. So I loved it just for that. I spent all day writing to try and get Vampire Sorceress finished and then in the evening go out for a few drinks and something to eat. 

On the day of our friends birthday we had to go out – late – very late and go down the strip, as it’s known, all dressed as Where’s Wally! Now I’d never even heard of Where’s Wally when it was announced on our Facebook events page, so I made a sterling effort. It was good fun, one girl in our group did tipple overs down the streets until she fell over, another ended up in A&E with a gashed leg because she thought doing the splits on a nightclub dance floor full of broken glass was a good idea and there were a few surprising couplings amongst drinking friends that morning too.


I was sensible and came home early, I can’t seem to get into that kind of drunken state any more. Thank God! That was pretty much it for Magaluf. Or MegaMuff as it is now affectionately known amongst the group of friends. Heehee. Sun, sea, sand and the other stuff. Sometimes those kind of holidays abroad are good for the soul.






Marbella - And so to the holiday that brought back all these wonderful memories of holidays past in Spain and Spanish Islands. Although this was my third visit to the Costa Del Sol in my life, I had been very young the other times and so it felt like a whole new adventure for me. We visited Fuerengirola Market, a huge sprawling affair of stalls. I was disappointed though because I remember it as a food market and gift stalls with clothes and trinkets, but these days it was more like an enormous car boot sale and the junk people were prepared to sell was astonishing.

Now I've been to car boots in the UK, but this was something else! I was quite disappointed, but I tried Churro's and chocolate sauce for the first time here and I bought a tacky old Spanish dancer doll too. And I never realised that Fuerengirola was a resort in its own right, I'd always remembered it as this hot dusty city with beggars on every corner! Everything had changed these days.
We then took a bus up to Mijas, a beautiful whitewashed town, high in the hills and overlooking the coastline and landscapes was breathtaking.

 The views were spectacular and the town was just as beautiful. Winding white washed houses with lots of blue plant pots and outdoor furniture set it off as a quaint traditional Spanish town famous for its donkeys and pony and carriage rides around the area. Naturally we had to try one and I came home with my wonky donkey fridge magnet!

 Marbella was just as beautiful, besides the usual sea front, built up resort there is a quaint little old town, with squares to sit out in, street entertainment, very much like Mijas. We ate here a few times in the evenings. I'm glad I returned to Marbella and the Costa Del Sol. It has always been somewhere I'd said I'd return to one day, just didn't expect it to be so soon,
Viva L'Espania!!!

Visit my website: www.alisonkershaw.com
Or my Travel Blog http://penneysontour.blogspot.co.uk/2015/08/week-50-summary-of-amazing-year.html

Germany's Rhineland - Mancunian Tales inspiration

Baden Baden – Rhine Valley Black Forest

Germany was much more enjoyable than Vienna. Granted I was on a High School holiday, but the week sticks firmly in my mind for many reasons: - The first was I was away from all parental control for a whole week! We had teachers minding us, but we had about six teachers to a whole coach load of hyperactive teenagers. Besides, teaching and laws around schools and care of children in the 80's were far more relaxed than they are today and so we pretty much spent a lot of time entertaining ourselves and getting up to mischief of course.

As a group we walked around the prettiest village of Schiltach in Baden Wertumberg just outside of the spa town Baden Baden. The only way I could describe it is picture postcard cuckoo clock style wooden houses with huge bursts of flora everywhere – in gardens and flower boxes along every window and along the river Rhine's railings. Back then I’d never seen so much uniformed rainbows of colour with not a shred of litter anywhere. It was like the whole village met for garden and flowerbed meetings so everything matched.


We walked through the streets pretending to be French exchange students! Why? God knows, I was a teenager! But even at fourteen, I could still appreciate the beauty of the Rhineland and Black Forest countryside. Dinner at the Gasthof Brucke hotel was a strange affair, the boys would come in to the dining room of the main hotel that the girls dorm occupied and we’d have this gorgeous garlic chicken soup with a bit like scrambled egg in it, which I loved, but everyone else just waited for the enormous tray of chips to arrive and hands would just claw and grab at the fried potato dish.

It was like feeding time at the zoo until a teacher told everyone off for eating like pigs. But we were able to sample the local delicacies similar to the food I mentioned in Vienna. I liked it, but most just lived on chips all week. Yurgh! I was a health food freak by this time and anything fried or meat based was just gross to me. The boy’s dorms were in another hostel type hotel across the road and because there wasn’t enough rooms in the main hotel for all the girls, the teachers asked for volunteers to sleep in the less than salubrious hostel next door.

Naturally the four man eaters amongst the group wanted to share with the boys, including one of my friends, who was like “Come on, Come in the boys dorm, it’ll be a laugh.” And I was like, “Ooh no, the bedrooms are skanky and the toilets stink!” So there you have it. Even back then when my teenage hormones were supposed to be raging I still chose creature comforts over ‘coppin’off’. Haha!

I loved breakfast time because I liked to see what the other girls would come down to the breakfast room wearing for that day.

I was never really that impressed with most of the girls fashion attempts (bearing in mind this is the mid-eighties – Hair gel, blue eye-liner and candy floss pink lipstick), but one girl, to me, was a fashion icon. Her clothes were high end fashion rather than high street and her hair and make-up was just always immaculate and perfect and I wanted to be her. I was told she was an amazing singer and was destined for stardom as a singer dancer actress. Never heard from her again!

Anyhoo, I did get my first snog at the back of the school coach, although he never spoke to me again, except to insult me. So my ideas of coming back to school with a boyfriend were crushed. The same boy hung out with the coach drivers every night and got pissed. A few others in the group followed suit and nicked a crate of beer from the cellar. That night almost everyone except me, Miss Perfection and a few first years got drunk and were grounded to their rooms whilst the teachers hit the bars for a quiet night without kids. And what do tiddly teenagers do when left unsupervised? Yes. Have parties in their bedrooms and wreck the joint! Good fun, but the groups chastised meetings became a daily occurrence.

Baden Baden was fantastic though and I remember buying lots of gifts , including some German sausage for my dad, which stunk the coach out. Teachers and pupils complained bitterly, but I stood my ground and dad got his salami garlic sausage. Hahahaa.

As a spa town the swimming was absolutely amazing with hot bubble spa’s and a steaming hot outdoor pool. Granted today we have similar leisure pools in say Centre Parcs, but back in the eighties if you got a swimming pool, one made your own entertainment, which is why at 42 I can still do back flips, continuous tipple overs, handstands and dives (when Health and Safety officers allow it of course!)Tut!

But we all loved it so much we managed to persuade the prison guards to go back there for the last day. The trip to and from Germany was a 24hour coach and ferry trip which I’d rather not think about. Bearing in mind the Herald of Free Enterprise had sunk the week before and we were travelling to and from Zeebrugge on the sister ship. Never thought of it like this until typing, but both ferry trips were so seriously overcrowded me and my friends found a baggage storage room to sleep in away from the noise, sick and claustrophobia.

And I think that was due to them being one ferry down. It would make anyone shake their heads in derision these days that a ferry company lost a lot of lives on one ship because they didn’t close the doors before leaving the port and so they overcrowd the other ferries so people are sitting on floors or sleeping in the baggage hold. Could you imagine the outcry today? I did enjoy this holiday, albeit a bit bonkers, but at least I can say I went on a school holiday once. I still want to go back there, reminisce maybe. Who Knows? Maybe I’ll take my characters there in another Beyond Series of My Supernatural Books!