My wife and I recently went on a week’s holiday to Ibiza in the Spanish Balearics. Ibiza is a lovely, tranquil island with beautiful beaches, peaceful villages and fine food and wine. We can’t wait to go back.
However, there is a dark side to Ibiza and it is nothing to do with geography or the local Spanish people. It is very much to do with a large proportion of British people who visit the island to go on a weekend or week-long bender, so sozzled out of their minds they probably fail to recall a minute of their trip to the White Isle.
The behaviour of these British people is appalling. From the moment they get on the plane, where the Captain had to tell them to behave (and this was even before take off) and where one particularly inebriated young man thought it was funny to run up and down the aisle with a cape flowing from his neck just as the plane was about to make its final descent, to when we land and the chants of “let’s go f***ing mental” ring out on the transfer bus to the terminal, to their arrival at their destination where they maraud through the streets like an invading army of Neanderthal zombies out of their minds on drink, the shame these British people bring on our country is scandalous.
Frankly, these British people are a sub-class.
The sub-class bring shame on Great Britain, a country I love and would die for. Their behaviour offends local people in Ibiza as it offends local people in Mallorca (an island with another name, Majorca, for the sub-class who can’t pronounce the correct spelling), the Costas, Prague and the other favoured haunts of the British sub-class abroad.
The offence and disrespect levelled on local Spanish people by the British sub-class in Ibiza is so immense that even normal British couples, like my wife and I, and British families are tarnished with the same brush. When you go in to local shops, you see the dread appear on the Spanish shopkeeper’s face: “Oh no, what is this British person going to say and do to me and my shop?” One shopkeeper of a tobacconist my wife visited to buy cigarettes for a friend back in the UK was positively rude to her. In the UK, you expect poor customer service but Spanish customer service is usually excellent: the only reason, I believe, for this attitude towards my wife was because she was British and the tobacconist automatically thought my wife was out do her harm in words or actions.
The time when we treated very well by a shopkeeper was a groceries shop owner who mistook my wife to be French!
Now don’t just take our experience of customer service in Ibiza shops as proof of my argument. My wife had the need to visit an osteopath whilst we were visiting. The osteopath was called Pablo and he was originally from Argentina but now lives and works in Ibiza. During the hour long treatment period, Pablo talked with my wife about the British people he sees staggering and swearing around the streets of San Antoni, a town in the south west of the island. Pablo asked: “Are they are on drugs?”. My wife retorted: “No, those type don’t do drugs.” Pablo replied: “We always think of British men as the gentlemen”. An archaic stereotype may be. But would you rather our European cousins thought of British men as gentlemen or yobs who swear, punch and vomit their way around the streets of their foreign hosts! I know which one I would prefer to be thought of. But due to the disgusting behaviour of the sub-class, the automatic reaction of a foreigner is to think of me as a yob until I can prove differently (or pretend I am French!).
I am trying to work out how the British sub-class came about. Is it the appalling education system we have in this country caused by both Tory and Labour governments (and only now being addressed by Education Secretary Michael Gove)? Is it the welfare state which encourages bad parents to have more children? Is it the lack of moral leadership from our politicians? Is it the cheap and freely available alcohol in our supermarkets and corner shops? What is it?
My own theory is because of the aggressive move towards secularism we have seen by governments since the 1960s and accelerated by the Blair and Brown governments between 1997-2010. As Alastair Campbell once said: “We don’t do God”. Traditional values are shunned upon by our institutions other than by our great Monarch. People have been led to believe they do not need to take personal responsibility for their lives as the State will look after them from “cradle to grave”. The messianic worship of the NHS by all politicians feeds this lack of responsibility. For those with lower IQs, which the British sub-class predominately contains, it is then an easy step to washing away your conscience. Without a conscience and without fear of a higher power or authority, there is nothing stopping the sub-class from behaving exactly how they wish. They have expunged guilt and shame from their emotional signature. Watch out, like animals, they will get what they want and by any means.
Whatever it is, it is a disgrace. I blame the sub-class for their behaviour. Whatever the root cause which churned out these sub-class British adults is, it does not excuse their behaviour on a Friday or Saturday night in our town centres or every hour of the day when they go abroad. Their disrespect of the local environment and hosts is appalling.
Now, I know my left-wing readers will accuse me of being a nasty right-winger and will spout rubbish about “chaotic lifestyles” etc. But let’s not forget it costs a lot of money to go on holiday these days – this British sub-class aren’t living on benefits; they managed to get jobs whilst having the moral value set of a newt. No, I don’t want a defence of the sub-class, I would like an explanation of how the sub-class came into being and how we can eradicate it – however many generations that may take.
Finally, don’t be frightened of visiting Ibiza because of the sub-class: the vast majority of the island is beautiful with wonderful Spanish people. Like most animals, the sub-class have a habitat they feel most comfortable with and stay within – mainly in San Antoni and what is called the “West End”, a strip of bars in San Antoni town centre. Night-time in San Antoni is only pleasant in the northern part of the town where the sub-class steer away from because there are no burger bars and deals on pints of vodka (I kid you not!).