Relax Hard

My 'Before' Picture.

           I am the most beautiful person in Plymouth.

                              But the ugliest in all of Turkey.



I've been surrounded for the last week by a large group of young marrieds who've left me feeling old, unfit in both senses, very single, and generally past it (although still young and stunning when compared with the aquarobics class at my Plymouth-based UnHealth Club).

And I think they may be on the warpath.  Quake in your boots, Nielson's!  Your customers appear to be displeased that you have plonked the most glorious 5* £billion palatial hotel, meant for sailing, on what on the face of it, seems to be a surfers beach.

The company's strapline is 'Relax Hard' and that's just what most of their guests do.  These people rise at dawn for water skiing (normally cancelled because of the conditions).Then it's mountain biking. Then tennis. Then weightlifting. Then fitness classes including my three perennial hates: Zumba, Aquarobics and Pilates. Followed by Swimming, and Sailing (generally cancelled). And then back to the first three. There is not an ounce of fat between them all.  Except for Michael, the surgeon, who is so enormous that he has bosoms, and snores loudly on his sunbed.  And me of course.

At the end of the week there's a competition for 'The Most Perfect Family'.  Teeth implanter and I pretended to vomit into our raki, but I was actually very jealous when my charming, bald friend (yet another surgeon, who I met when he was sitting down, and when he got up he turned out to be 5'4"), his lovely daughter and delightful wife deservedly took the honour.

I cannot imagine a more determined, intelligent, powerful force of people if this lot get the bit between their teeth.  Even if most of them aren't very interesting.

They should be rounded up to sort out Putin and prevent World War 3, once they've dealt with Nielson's.

In the meantime, my diet starts the day the children begin their Autumn term.  

---