"...and you sit next to a party from Rhyl who keep singing 'Torremolinos, Torremolinos' and complaining about the food"

Hordes of drunk, obnoxious Spanish tourists have arrived in Scarborough to enjoy the sunshine and take no interest in any other aspect of Britain.

The tourists, who speak no English and order tapas by calling every waiter Gary, have been lured here from Alicante by England’s balmy climate and relaxed pace of life.

Delivery driver Wayne Hayes said: “I know they’ve only come for the sun, but would it kill them to take an interest in our proud, ancient culture?

“Instead all day they lie on the beach in their Speedos reading El Pais, picking at olives and manchego cheese before launching into offensive chants about Lionel Messi.

“Then they barge into our fish ’n’ chip shops, smashed on all-day Rioja, demanding pulpo a la gallega with a well-chilled Fino sherry, not even bothering to read what’s actually on the menu.

“Mind you, the businesses are happy to see them. Half the seafront’s turned into all-night paella bars called Picasso, and the flamenco from Don Quixote’s nightclub goes on all night.”

Tourist Juan Fernandez said: “Me and the wife are thinking of buying here and decking the house out with a massive Spanish flag. Why would we ever want to return to our grey existence in Granada?”

The Daily Mash

Of course.

Unfortunately, they're mostly now sat gloomily under awnings looking at the rain that arrived today, moaning about how much money they wasted coming to this shithole, I imagine.

And now for something completely different... [Well, not entirely]:

Monty Python - Travel Agent