It was the obvious choice when we needed to get our fella Rupert away — shortly after his long-term missus dumped him for some pretty boy. Tropitel Naama Bay Hotel was exactly what we were looking for. Rooms were a good size, clean and come with two double beds, a large balcony and the hotel was 30 seconds from all the bars, clubs and restaurants. After a full days tanning, and some surprisingly good food at the hotel, we was keen to head out.
NOTE: Tourism boards advise you book excursions either within your hotel or established tour companies. Just be smart. If something sounds to good to be true, it probably is. At the fear of contradicting myself, can I advise that you DO NOT get in the car with strangers — especially if the guys like a tramp and is selling prostitutes and cocaine.
It was around 3am in the morning, both him and Troy was smashed, and not ready to call it a night. After 10 minutes of arguing, Mark chose to ignore me and jumped into the front passenger seat of the car. Mark, still oblivious to the situation, was nodding along to some bizarre Arabic soundtrack, while Mustaphar beat his steering wheel like a drum set.
We were taken through a small corridor and in to an extremely small apartment where we were greeted by a man named Mohummed. The kitchen, bedroom and living room was all squeezed into one. Mohummed told us to take a seat while Mustaphar went to get changed and flicked the box on. We said yes, but soon changed our minds when he removed a half empty bottle of beer out the fridge, took and lengthy swig and passed it round. Note: There is no Muslim ritual which I know of that involves trapping Brits and killing them in a dark cape.
While Mark was probably wondering whether or not he felt comfortable having sex in his new surroundings, me and Troy was trying to work out how long we had left before getting attacked. Go for Russians.
