Gran Canaria...

I'm off work in a couple of weeks time. I'd intended spending it here in Cardiff, just mooching about. Perhaps a bit of cycling and swimming, lazy mornings and late nights; all the things I keep promising myself. I could even do a bit of DIY; maybe fix that dripping shower head.

However, fed up with the recent wind and cold and rain and realising that with boredom I'd probably spend more money here, last week I started looking for a cheap holiday somewhere warm. Long story short; I'm off to Gran Canaria - the gay capital of Gayville.

I'm not quite sure how this happened. I've only been to two other islands in the Canaries; my usual quiet and relaxed Fuerteventura (a regular haunt over the last few years) and an alcohol fueled, heterosexual packaged nightmare in Tenerife when I was 17.

I went to Tenerife with a group of lads I used to hang about with at the time. I remember sitting at the back of the plane smoking (it was allowed back then). I can remember the building site of a resort we were staying at. I can remember Fashion by David Bowie being played interminably in the disco. As holidays go, it was pretty dire.

My fear is that I've booked myself back into that nightmare of 32 years ago - a week long booze-soaked session, punctuated only by throwing up. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that I can escape the rainbow festooned wonders of the Yumbo Centre, should I feel the urge for something quiet and simple.