The year 2020 was not a good year for people who like to travel. We like to travel so 2020 was not a good year for us. Planned trips were taken outside into the dark woods and shot and buried in shallow graves with frightening regularity as the months rolled by in an endless series of mismanagement displays from elected and quietly-appointed officials in the upper echelons of government. We coped pretty well but as November approached and the hoped-for end to all of it stayed resolutely hidden I found myself looking around for any kind of option to get away for a proper break; from work, certainly, but from the country too if it was possible and seemed safe to do so.
There were no cruise options for the simple fact that mismanagement of huge disasters and the selling of online advertising space for the increasingly lazy press requires someone to produce an ornate key to unlock an imposing gate and to shout “Release the Scapegoat!“
Thus it was that I started looking over package holidays for the first time in a very long time. I also started pondering booking everything myself but quickly realised that whatever almost impossibly small amount of cover there might be for cancellations of booked trips during a pandemic against government advice would vanish in a puff of smoke if I didn’t get some kind of operator involved. Also, I’m lazy. My conditions for booking something were:
- it had to be good value,
- it had to be soon so that cancellations were almost impossible,
- it had to be somewhere with lower infection rates than at home (rather easy to achieve, thankfully),
- and it had to not require us to pay additional money to a private company to get a test within a few days of departure (because adding the stress of wondering if the results would come back in time was not something we wanted to entertain)
Just three days before departing (and one day before the UK announced a new lockdown would kick in while we were away) I ended up booking a week’s holiday in an all-inclusive resort on the Greek island of Kos through TUI. Entry requirements to Kos were that we had to pre-register online to say where we’d be staying and we’d receive a QR code by email on the night before the flight that would needed to be shown at the airport. Lovely. We had no qualms with booking with TUI either as they’d looked after us splendidly just the year before – ah, the year before, when people could travel freely! – on our Marella Discovery cruise to Jordan. It would be a TUI flight, TUI transfer, and there’d be a TUI rep at the hotel to take care of all the worries, and TUI’s cancellation and Covid policies covered things that would be otherwise nullified on our travel insurance. The hotel in question normally finished its season the day before we’d arrive but had extended it for a few weeks in order to make up some lost revenue from fewer bookings during the year and because there’d been a rush of interest from people in the UK especially looking to take advantage of international travel for holidays while it was briefly allowed between lockdowns.
I booked parking at Gatwick airport and the hotel at the airport as close as possible to the terminal (North Terminal, a first for us, and where all flights were coming in and out of at this time); a little more expensive than what we’d normally do but we wanted stress-free and convenient for this spur-of-the-moment sunshine break. The morning of the flight saw us waking up, grabbing our bags, walking across the road to the terminal, masking up, checking in, and passing through security all inside about twenty minutes. The perfect start to a holiday.
I guess it’s time for a traditional breakfast and drink.
Ah. About that…
Oh God! What!? They haven’t closed the pub because of Covid, have they?
Worse than that. Much, much worse than that.
No. Oh no. Please say it isn’t so.
Once upon a time there was a land at peace with its neighbours and filled to overflowing with public houses serving ales from across the country at excellent prices to people enjoying what the land produced. But one day a sickness of the mind hit the land and ruddy-faced figures walked around spreading lies about the neighbouring countries, saying that they were thieves not partners and that they were trying to take over, that the land should build a wall around itself, should stop the friendly neighbours from stealing its fish, and that everyone would be richer if this was done. The people of the land were divided between those who could see the lies and those who were racist and had been hiding it, but the owner of the biggest, most popular public houses – Tim the Potatogre; half-man, half-spud; cursed with a tiny face on a huge head – came out of the shadows and said he believed the ruddy-faced lies and that people who wanted drinks in his buildings should have to read about the evil neighbours. The public houses changed from places of enjoyment to dens of dim-witted despair, and the sickness of the mind spread faster; the enjoyment stopped; the ruddy-faced liars got richer and the land withered, and Tim the Potatogre kept saying how good it all was.
Wetherspoons? A fucking Wetherspoons?
Sorry. Only option at the moment. We could skip it but…
Urgh! What a horrible position to be in.
If it helps, since it’s after security at the airport, we could pretend it’s on international land and therefore not a real pub, but one of those knock-off things they have for tourists in countries with poor trademark protection.
Like that Hard Rock Café we once saw down that alley somewhere that was smaller than a burger van.
Exactly.
We can do this. Just don’t tell anyone and don’t write about it on the site.
You can count on it.
For tradition’s sake we suffered a breakfast and a pint before the flight which was mostly notable for the sudden screaming and shouting somewhere high over southern Europe. Not from us. We’re old school, reserved Brits. A young woman started yelling “Get off me!” and “Leave me alone!” at the top of her lungs causing several people to stand up and stare pointedly. The shouting went on for a few minutes and I’d like to tell you why it started and what caused it to stop but I’ve no idea as to the former and perhaps pointed staring eventually wears a person’s resolve down given enough time in the latter’s case.
Kos Airport was not without incident either.
It began on the bus ride from the plane to the terminal. A fellow passenger – male, early twenties, slight build, caucasian, I must stop watching police dramas, I’ll stop now – boarded, mask around his chin, and started talking animatedly and loudly about being on holiday. People ignored him. His companion nodded and answered him. Then he caught sight of me and stiffened. He backed away a step and slowly pulled his mask over his mouth and nose, then remained silent while staring at me. I stared back. Odd behaviour, but an acceptable outcome.
Off the bus and we all had to queue outside the terminal because Kos Airport is, it transpires, bloody tiny, and when they’ve got a grand total of one person checking passports and those QR codes, and that one person is the most fastidious person on the entire island, the queue just wouldn’t move. It was hot outside the terminal and we were all still wearing masks and the queue disintegrated into a bunched-up and definitely not socially-distanced ball once an airport employee came over and insisted we couldn’t form a single line the way we’d been trying. Someone got close to my backpack. I am acutely aware of who’s close to me because of the cameras I carry so I glanced back to see a woman who had nearly backed into me while talking to her male companion. No big deal. The male companion was the same guy from the bus. His eyes widened as he saw me and he pulled his friend away from me then stepped back into the people behind him to move further away. Really odd behaviour, but I was definitely beginning to like this power a lot.
Twenty or more minutes passed and we were inside the building and in a snaking and only occasionally shuffling line towards passport control. Suddenly, there was more shouting from behind us. An armed security guard pushed through to see what was happening. And wouldn’t you know it, but it was only Mr Bus and Mr Queue himself refusing to wear his mask and threatening the guard that he’d sue him if he laid a finger on him and that he couldn’t make him wear a mask and who knows what else. Drugs or mental illness were clearly involved, and that was the last we saw of him. The main thing I took from this whole series of events, however, was that I’m scarier than a Greek man with a sidearm. I might even put that on business cards.
Just one more thing to mention from this excruciatingly long period spent in the airport at Kos and that was the Covid test. During the pre-flight online registration with the Greek government to receive the QR code it was mentioned that some people would be taken aside for quick swab-testing on arrival at the airport with any positive Covid results notified within 24 hours and further instructions to quarantine to occur then. In actuality it was every person who was the lead person on a booking – since you only needed to register once per family – who was sent down to have the QR code scanned, assigned to a test swab, then have that swab sent to explore the deepest recesses of the throat. In our case this was me, and while it wasn’t particularly nice it was quick, done with a smile, and ultimately confirmed that we were likely not infected as we heard no more about it.
And so, finally, a lot later than expected, after the luggage carousel jammed for ten minutes just before our case came out just for the fun of it, and after finding the TUI person and finding the right bus, and enjoying the views of the Greek island on a half hour drive through the countryside, we arrived at the resort.
The Blue Lagoon Resort is on the north coast of Kos and it’s the first resort we’ve ever been to. We’ve been to hotels before but this was the first time visiting a place where after checking in you’re whisked away on a golf cart to find the building where your room is because it’s all spread out over such a distance. In fact, once we’d got our bearings after a few days we realised that a lot of it is closer than first thought but our initial thoughts were along the likes of “Oh crap, we are so going to get lost around here.” This, of course, was not helped by the sun already dipping as we’d arrived and the need for the golf cart to take the route around the complex wide enough to support it; there was no use trying to think “Well, we took two lefts, a right, bypassed two turn-offs, one more left, then two rights after the crossroads, so we should be able to reverse those directions to get back to reception if we need to” and there was little point paying much attention to our driver pointing out things in the twilight that we clearly wouldn’t recognise in the light of the days to come.
Our room was big – very large compared to the sort of rooms we’re used to on cruise ships – but perhaps a little spartan given its size, and potentially lacking in storage space if you were planning on staying for longer than a week. Obligatory photos of the room and bathroom are now provided for your viewing pleasure.
I’d booked what the Blue Lagoon Resort refers to as a Garden View room. This is actually the cheapest type of accommodation they have, with others having views of the pool or the sea or being more secluded and close to the resort’s spa. We had absolutely no complaints with the room or its location – two or three minutes’ walk to all the things you’ll probably want to get to – and with our room facing west we were treated to a fantastic scene of sunset over Kos as soon as we stepped out onto our balcony.
There are north-facing rooms in the resort, including any sea view ones, and I’d be a little wary of booking them at the time of year we visited if the wind that prevailed throughout our stay is a common occurrence. In the heat of summer, maybe quite welcome. With the dropping (but very pleasant for us) temperatures of the late autumn that wind had quite a bite to it that we were thankfully sheltered from with our room allocation.
We unpacked, installed an app that would allow us to book a complimentary meal in one of the resort’s speciality dining options (only the Chinese restaurant was available, and that was booked out for the first four days so worth checking that early if you’re staying at this hotel), tried to align the supplied map with where we thought we were based on what we could see and where we thought the golf cart had taken us, then headed off to see about getting some dinner. Naturally, we headed in the wrong direction but this did bring us to one side of the main and very large swimming pool at the Blue Lagoon Resort. We knew we could circle this and get to the buffet restaurant.
Covid precautions were in place at the buffet and they were well-adhered-to and well-enforced by the staff. These involved being handed a disposable glove upon entry which was used to select food. Masks had to be worn when out of the seat and I was very happy to see a waiter run across and stop a woman who’d stepped up to get some desserts without hers on one evening. In terms of range of food available there was a varied choice that changed every day with a few ever-presents among them. Can’t fault the quantity and range at all, and while the quality sometimes fell a bit short that may have had something to do with our more refined tastes and expectations after years of cruising. It was perfectly acceptable fare and I doubt most people would have much of an issue. Ignore the star rating and assume you’re going to get basic grub and basic drinks and all you could want of either of them, and you’ll have a good time.
Speaking of drinks…
The buffet restaurant was self-service but waiters floated around to clean and lay tables and to provide wine, beer, or juice for anyone who wanted some with their meals. Other drinks could be got outside. We’d no sooner sat down with our plates of food, removed the gloves, and taken off our masks when a shadow fell across the table. This was Drini, a waiter, and the man mostly responsible for us doing absolutely nothing the following day. During the course of our meal on this first evening we had chats with him about all manner of things when he’d turn up to bring us glasses of red wine. It was house wine, Greek, likely local, and not terribly nice but better than anything red that comes out of France because, let’s face it, everything is. Sometimes the wine would appear because he’d point at the nearly empty glasses and question us; sometimes they’d just appear for no reason. In terms of great waiting staff we’ve known on our travels around the world Drini ranks right up there with the best of them, and the service from all the staff was generally excellent and very friendly throughout our stay. We were still at our table almost ninety minutes after we’d finished eating and the restaurant was mostly empty. We, of course, were quite blitzed at this point. I dread to think how much we had but it was around a bottle each, and potentially far more than that.
Final memories of this first evening at the Blue Lagoon Resort in Kos were of us finding the entertainments dome, getting a cocktail from the free bar (to the left as you look at the stage; there’s also a premium, additional cost bar to the right as you look at the stage), taking a few sips, then deciding we’d better find our room. Quite how we found our room while out of our faces in the dark is another matter, especially given we got lost leaving it to head to the restaurant before that. I woke up in my bed and that’s all I can say, while my wife has one more memory that merely involves projectile vomiting into the toilet at some unknown hour of the morning.
We were delicate the following day. We mostly blame Drini but we partly blame the giddiness of being out of the country and somewhere new in 2020.
We did encounter a lizard outside our room on the way down to a very late breakfast, which was nice.
So, our first full day in Kos was spent either around the swimming pool or on our balcony, reading, and not drinking anything stronger than Sprite. The pool area was busy with people in most available loungers – every other pair of loungers were marked not to be used or removed entirely in order to keep some form of social distancing in place – but the pool itself was empty and when I dipped a toe in the water I realised that it being unheated, the sun being not as strong as in the summer months, and that wind whipping across the surface had conspired to make one very large test of bravery and endurance that almost everyone was avoiding.
We didn’t fancy heading far – and, indeed, we were supposed to stay around the resort for the first 24 hours in Kos anyway in case the government got in touch to notify us to go into isolation – but we did explore the area to work out where everything was in daylight and we headed out of the main entrance and crossed the road to the beach attached to the Blue Lagoon to see what that was like. Sandy with some pebbles, plenty of loungers out, and views to the island of Pserimos to the northwest and to mainland Turkey to the northeast. It was quite weird to think we were that close to a country we’d never been to before. It’s possible to take boat trips across normally but these weren’t running during our stay. Mostly, we took away the fact that it was ridiculously windy on the beach and there was no chance we were going to see what the water was like.
Another fantastic dusk sky could be seen from our hotel room balcony in the early evening. Dinner after that was a far quieter affair drinks-wise than the previous day despite valiant attempts from Drini once again. We had some, but we showed some restraint, and we went for a walk back down towards the beach after night fell just to see what sort of stars we might be able to see, only to realise there was a bright full moon obliterating a huge chunk of the sky and patchy cloud over much of the rest. I can imagine that a clear sky at night in summer from those beach loungers without our planet’s natural satellite to contend with would make for a staggeringly good astronomical experience.
The next day would see us walk into nearby Kos Town to see some ancient ruins and find a craft ale bar that would become our second home during our week’s stay at the Blue Lagoon Resort, and is covered in the next post in this travelogue series.