I remember it well.
A family holiday to Crete at the tender age of 18.
You know those holidays when your folks pay for everything and you and your siblings sneak off down the hotel discotheque every evening for a night of “euro-trance”, cheap shots and ultimately end up puking over the girls feet you just pulled.
Yep, one of those.
That week my Dad and I went on a scuba diving taster session which was pretty bloody cool, but left me somewhat scarred…..and sadly not by a shark bite.
Scarred in fact by a photo…