Ben‑Dorp Echoes

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Benidorm 2026 — Reworked Lyrics [Spoken Intro] We met at the airport the night before. Which, looking back, was mistake number one. Because starting a family holiday already hungover does make the first day unnecessarily difficult. [Verse 1] Next morning, six adults looking rough, kids full of energy, none of us had enough. By ten we were poolside, cracking the beer, BuzzBall beside it — bar opens in an hour. Half-eight every morning, racing for beds, after getting back at one and feeling half-dead. That evening my shirt said “Slippery When Wet”, John wore “Who’s Been a Good Boy?” Not John, I’d bet. Then someone points at the tribute act: “Who’s this?” “Dua Lipa.” “It’s Michael Jackson.” “Yeah. Dua Lipa.” [Chorus] BEN-I-DORM! HERE WE FUCKING GO! Ten in the morning and the standards are low! BEN-I-DORM! GET ANOTHER ROUND! Twelve Baby Guinnesses coming back down! No sleep! No shame! Every tribute act has got the same name! “Who’s that?” DUA LIPA! “Where’s Ben?” FUCK KNOWS EITHER! BEN-I-DORM! HERE WE FUCKING GO! Six grown adults who should really know! [Verse 2] Ben kept disappearing off to the shops. Five minutes later, back with a knife and a lighter, like that’s a completely normal purchase. After that it became: “Where’s Ben?” “Buying nunchucks.” “Probably a bazooka.” “Give him ten minutes — flamethrower.” Meanwhile Chris, Ben and Kai couldn’t keep a room key working. By the end they had about forty plastic cards. Mundomar rang. The dolphins had filed a complaint. [Chorus] BEN-I-DORM! HERE WE FUCKING GO! BuzzBalls high and the standards are low! BEN-I-DORM! GET ANOTHER ROUND! Twelve Baby Guinnesses coming back down! Michael Jackson? DUA LIPA! Vengaboys? DUA LIPA! Pitbull? Chris: MR WORLDWIDE. [Verse 3] John lost to Chris at pool. Simple deal: lose the game, get the tattoo. “2 Can Chew 69.” John lost, then developed concerns about the legal status of verbal contracts made while drinking. Day one: “Tomorrow.” Day two: “We’ll see.” So his honour went under formal review, with zero-alcohol beer and mocktails threatened until the tattoo finally appeared. And Chris, as though he’d not done enough, bit John’s bollock through his shorts. There isn’t really a smooth transition from that. [Breakdown] Catch me if you can — zucchini! Catch me if you can — Houdini! Catch me if you can — Mussolini! Who is it? DUA LIPA! [Verse 4] Family day at Mundomar. Fourteen people. Dolphin show. Wholesome. They only sold cans of beer. Six adults probably means six cans. We bought twelve. So there’s a family walking into a dolphin show with a handbag sounding like a recycling bin. And Hannah — it’s all-inclusive. You do not need to smuggle prawns and mussels out in your bag. Nobody is coming for the seafood. Later, Helen and Hannah got absolutely mashed, made friends with two gay lads, then two lesbians joined them and simply wouldn’t let them go. Hugging, chatting, following them around — they went out for drinks and came back running their own social club. [Bar Breakdown] “What can I get you?” Two strawberry daiquiris. Two mojitos. Two Malibu pineapples. And twelve Baby Guinnesses. “How many of you are there?” Six. [Verse 5] At the foam party, John decided he was Klinsmann. Threw himself forward, slid about three feet, and stood up looking twenty years older. I spent most nights on a roll mat in the bathroom. Not because Helen and I had fallen out. Because my snoring apparently sounds like a container ship starting. But every morning, half-eight, we were back downstairs racing for sunbeds. That’s Benidorm. You don’t recover. You just restart. [Final Chorus] BEN-I-DORM! HERE WE FUCKING GO! Ten in the morning and the standards are low! BEN-I-DORM! GET ANOTHER ROUND! Twelve Baby Guinnesses coming back down! Room keys! Seafood! Pool bets gone wrong! Foam-party Klinsmann! Still going strong! “Where’s Ben?” BUYING A FLAMETHROWER! “Who’s that?” DUA LIPA! Chris! Lisa! Hannah! John! Helen! Dave! Still fucking going on! No sleep! No shame! Every night exactly the same! BEN-I-DORM! HERE WE FUCKING GO! Six grown adults who should fucking know! Catch me if you can — zucchini… Catch me if you can — Houdini… Catch me if you can — Mussolini… This is Mr Worldwide, Dua Lipa signing off. See you later sluts.