What Women Do When They Are On Vacation

And Won't Tell You

This is not something they will want you to know or read.

This is the testimonial of someone close who used to work in the hospitality and winter sports sector. When I asked him about his experiences when he was working in holiday resorts, this is what he told me:

The Ski Resort:

He was a head ski instructor in one of the most highly sought-after ski resorts in France, and every season was always the same story; women felt they had the divine right to shag him and his crew almost as soon as they started taking their lessons.

This was proving problematic because it was putting the people taking lessons from his team at risk. They initially were trying to get him to get some benefits and be seen as the top girl of the group, but it was not his thing; his passion was not the cheeks but the mountain.

The over-30-year-old instructors were tired of it, as they had their share in their 20s, and it was also because of the necessary recuperation time required to go on the slopes early. The 20-year-old instructors had the time of their lives and had shining eyes for every new arrival of young women willing to take lessons.

The situation was getting out of hand, and he had to penalise the instructors he thought risked the clients' safety, as it was a constant inflow of women throwing themselves at them. The problem was that they did not sleep enough and could not correctly run their lesson.

The Tunisia Experience:

He was offered to manage a hotel resort mainly catering to European nationals in northern Tunisia. He was surprised at how popular he became when he first set foot in the county. He later understood the reason was that he was the vector of information on the new arrivals of young women. When I asked him what the population breakdown of the hotel was, he told me:

60-70% of women looking to get their guts re-arranged

30-40% couples and awkward and domestically sex-starved males.

The first category proved to be a much more significant source of issues than the second one. On his first cheap airline arrival for the all-included bundle holidays, he was surprised to see hordes of young men waiting for the arrival. He later learned that the Chinese whisper went as far as Tripoli. He could easily differentiate the Tunisian men from the Lybians, as the former were more kind-looking and the latter more rough.

He recalled that the single women who bought these bundles were usually between 18 and 27, and there were many school teachers and personal assistants—working and middle class, unlike during his ski resort holidays when it was more in the bourgeoisie and upper class.

He was initially a bit naive, but that did not last long; the single women, usually going alone or in groups of 2, were there to get railed. Some never left their hotel rooms; it was that bad. His responsibilities were more of a chaperon and a point of contact for the European women and the local authorities, as the ladies had proven problematic. He ended up being confidant of the women, their therapist, and the guy having to clean after the mess they created, as they had no clue about the dangers involved. He initially thought he would have had a chill one.

He then had to make a prevention presentation because the problem was that a lot of the men were littered with STIs. When he was giving these warnings to the women, he was criticised for being a racist. He learned from conversing with enough of them that the appeals women had for North Africans was because they were packing more in their boxers than the Caucasians, which is one of the reasons which brought them here, despite the poor lack of hygiene of the locals.

He shared three stories (amongst the countless nonsense he had to deal with) with me. The worst is for last.