When I reached 20, after wrapping up my second year in college, I embarked on an epic adventure to Tenerife with a mate. We had secured jobs as bartenders and had our own flat just a stone's throw from all the action in Playa De Las Americas - the island's party hotspot.
The thrill of independence was what excited us most. Like many young tourists on the island, it was our first taste of such freedom. The resort is the perfect recipe for a party holiday - a stunning beach with boat parties aplenty, a plethora of bars with top-notch DJs offering cheap drinks, and other fun-loving tourists ready for a good time.
However, there's a dark underbelly to the island, a serious drug underworld. It's easy to see how some unsuspecting Irish and Brits abroad can innocently land themselves in hot water, reports the Irish Mirror.
READ MORE: Police issue major Jay Slater update in Tenerife after getting new leads
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The case of missing 19-year-old Jay Slater has been making headlines over the past few weeks. It's every parent's worst fear to wave their teenager off on their first holiday with mates, only for them not to return. The British teen attended a music festival in the south of Tenerife and the police have since called off the search for him, although the missing person case remains open. For the latest Welsh news delivered to your inbox sign up to our newsletter
Seven years ago, working and living in Tenerife was everything I'd hoped for - so much so that I returned the following summer for another season. Despite earning less than €4 an hour and serving drinks six nights a week, I was having the time of my life. Our days were spent luxuriating by the pool or basking on the beach, while our evenings entailed serving drinks with a smile, and our off hours meant VIP access to the finest festivals and electric parties.
Yet, working those entertaining nights often implied an unspoken obligation to drink on the job. In these tourist-targeted bars, bartending extended beyond pouring drinks, you were expected to embody fun and vitality. When bar crawls poured in, it was showtime: clamber onto the bar, lead a chorus of dances, and proceed to dispense shots directly into eager mouths.
However, leaping onto the bar was not particularly to my taste, a sentiment that echoed in my manager's words when they remarked that I "needed to be more fun like the other girls". Not long after, I switched scenes to a Karaoke bar, catering to hen and stag dos not necessarily reinforcing my faith in romance, mind, especially given the frequent departures of brides and grooms with the evening's entertainers.
I witnessed other bars entrenched in darker dealings, harbouring dealers within their midst throughout the night. Numerous young workers on the strip, naive to the grave risks, found themselves ensnared in precarious situations linked to these dealers. Directing drug-seeking tourists to these dealers would net them a quick €10. My friend and I pleaded for tips just to quench our thirst, a stark contrast to others who seemed to live without such financial strain.
While the culture of drinking on duty was encouraged, there were penalties for overindulgence. The punishment? A €50 fine, which exceeded our nightly earnings. We were also required to dedicate three or four hours each week to thoroughly clean the bar. Failure to attend resulted in another €50 fine.
The two summers I spent there were certainly memorable, but I consider myself fortunate not to have encountered any serious issues - except for the time my handbag was forcefully taken from me as I walked home. Every country or city has its problems, but these party destinations seem to operate within their own lawless microcosms. To all young people embarking on your first party holiday, enjoy yourselves, but stay alert.
