Sun, sea, sand and swingers at Benidorm's most famous hotel

Kate Wobschall takes a trip to Benidorm

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Several years ago, someone I know went on a stag party to Benidorm. It wasn't a logistical triumph, given that they flew to the wrong airport then it transpired the hotel they'd booked didn't exist.

On the first afternoon, he not only lost his room key and a toenail - but spotted three Osma Bin Ladens in a bar, raving.

And that's the sort of place Benidorm is - and you should expect the unexpected.

A bit like the series of the same name. One minute, Benidorm can have you laughing like a drain at Kenneth's hotpants, the next you're mourning the untimely death of Mel, the self-made sunbed shop magnate (wait, did he invent Only Tans?) and swingers' sensation Donald.

Channel-hopping in the televisual void now Love Island has finished, I settled for a nostalgic rerun of Benidorm. It wasn't a particularly recent series as Mel was still alive and kicking - well terrorising the streets in the resort's official transport of choice, the mobility scooter.