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way over here that there wasn’t a single person on it over twenty-five? They might call it an eighteen-thirty holiday but no one goes on these things past the age of twenty-five.’
    â€˜It’s true,’ said Steve-the-barman. ‘Compared to ninety-nine per cent of the lads and lasses in Malia you are ancient.’
    â€˜Even if we are a bit mature,’ replied Andy, ‘it makes no odds. Charlie here managed to pull some cracking bird at the airport without even trying.’
    â€˜Only because it probably wouldn’t have occurred to her that people as old as us would dream of going on to somewhere like Malia,’ said Tom.
    â€˜Do you remember when we used to go out on the pull when we were at university and we’d see packs of greasy old men eyeing up the girls we were with?’ I said to Andy with a sigh. Andy nodded. ‘Well, I’ve got a horrible feeling that we’re the greasy old men now.’
    â€˜Enough of me yakking on at you, eh?’ said Steve-the-barman uncomfortably. ‘I bet you want to get to your rooms and freshen up a bit.’
    We all followed him back to the reception, through an open archway and up a flight of stairs. ‘Here we go,’ he said, unlocking the door to apartment six. ‘This way.’ We all stepped into what appeared to be the kitchen but then right in front of us was a small table so I concluded that it was a dining room too. Then just behind the table was a large uncomfortable-looking sofa-bed which was clearly for the third person in the party, making it also a bedroom. We exchanged worried glances. The main bedroom was much better. There were two single beds, a wardrobe and a dressing table and very little else but at least it was clean. The only worrying thing was the temperature in the room.
    â€˜How do people sleep in this?’ I asked Steve-the-barman. ‘It’s like a furnace in here.’
    â€˜They don’t,’ he replied, ‘not unless they pay the extra to have the air-conditioning turned on.’
    â€˜We’ll pay,’ I said, without consulting the others.
    â€˜A wise decision,’ said Steve-the-barman, giving me a wink, ‘I’ll get you the key and the remote control for the unit in a minute.’
    The rest of the apartment was equally uninspiring. There was a TV but it had only three channels; a very basic tiled bathroom with a shower which Steve warned didn’t really give out any hot water until about three in the afternoon; and then finally he slid open the doors to the balcony.
    â€˜You’ve done well here, boys,’ he said, ‘you’ve got a sea view. Not that you can see it now of course.’
    I looked at the skyline and at the very bottom where the dark blue appeared to meet the black I could just about make out the lights of a passing ship.
    â€˜He’s right you know,’ I replied. ‘We have got a sea view.’ I looked down below. ‘And a view of the hotel pool too.’
    â€˜Well, I’ll leave you to it,’ said Steve. ‘The bar will be open as late as you like tonight if you want a drink in a bit.’

    Yassou
    We finally made it downstairs to the bar an hour and much arguing later. The problem was that no one wanted the sofa-bed and we couldn’t agree a fair way of solving the problem. Tom suggested a rota but Andy hated that idea. I suggested drawing straws, but Tom said that the way his luck was running at the moment he would be bound to draw the short straw. Andy suggested that we arm wrestle for it but as I hadn’t been near a gym for years I shot down that idea. In the end Tom announced that he would volunteer to take the sofa-bed if it meant that we could all stop arguing. Andy just laughed and muttered something about Christian charity in action. Relieved that we wouldn’t have to sleep in the kitchen, Andy and I promised to compensate Tom by making sure that he didn’t have to buy a