Top News

After a stressful term at university, my dad asked me if I would like to go away with him for a few days to catch some sun. Like any student still latching onto the bank of mum and dad at every available opportunity, I naturally accepted.

Where are we going, I wondered? My father is a straight-talking but adventurous man, interested in history, culture and good alcohol. Perhaps a Mediterranean island, or maybe a rogue city break in central Europe?

When he replied saying he fancied going to Benidorm, I couldn't help but laugh. With neither of us having frequented Spain's answer to Blackpool before, I had no clue what to expect beyond my slightly snobbish preconceptions of what the city, and the people, would be like.

After flying from Newcastle to Alicante, which must surely be the rowdiest airline route in Europe, I boarded the bus to Benidorm and was greeted by a Brummie couple who regularly holidayed there.

Their passion for Benidorm was evident, and it reaffirmed my perception that Benidorm was a place starring hedonism, chaos and "a sense of freedom you don't get on other holidays", to quote Jay Cartwright from The Inbetweeners.

After dropping my belongings off at the seafront apartment and meeting my dad, we hit the town. Even as someone used to cheap student beer in the north-east, I was amazed by how cheap the drinks were; my euro went rather far that night.

Seafront bars had a good atmosphere, but they weren't quite the Benidorm I was expecting. Then we got to the infamous Benidorm strip, and to say it was quite something would be an understatement.

Despite it being March and not really the holiday season yet, the strip was full of people, and you could barely move in certain bars. Common characteristics around me seemed to be vomiting, unhealthy romantic age gaps, and absolutely massive shot pours compared to the UK.

Deciding that I wasn't quite up for seeing Sticky Vicky's daughter continue her mother's legacy, we missed that bar and headed onwards. A life experience it would have been, I'm sure, but I don't think I'll lose sleep over missing out on it.

Getting progressively drunk and showing my father that after three years at university, I was somewhat able to keep up with his drinking, things started to get good, and I realised that Benidorm gets too much criticism.

The city gets some stick, but it is also cheap and cheerful and full of decent people who want to enjoy their hard-earned money and time of work in the way they enjoy best. It is a taste of home abroad, but with sun, and something about that is weirdly special in a way I did not previously anticipate.

There was something deeply British about finishing the watering session with a greasy KFC and a rancid hangover in the morning, I couldn't hate it if I tried.

I spent part of the next day exploring the Old Town near our apartment, and it surpassed my expectations. It was filled with narrow, long streets that connected to a mass of bars and restaurants to fill you up with whatever you wanted. A lemon-infused Heineken beer was not something I expected to drink at a pizza restaurant, but it was rather enjoyable.

The beach was surprisingly pleasant, and the metropolis of high-rise apartment lights looked rather pretty in the evening while I dipped into the sea.

I did not expect to enjoy Benidorm in the way I did, and I would by no means be rushing to go back, but it was a good experience that I would recommend to anyone on a fun-in-the-sun one-off visit. I spent enjoyable quality time with my father, and if I have a son one day, I hope to continue the tradition.