The noisy guests

All bungalow complexes must contain one set of noisy guests at all times. Sometimes, it's a family of 32 Canarians all jammed into one bungalow; Or a rowdy hen party; Or a couple that spend all day shouting at each other and all night making up. If your bungalow complex doesn't contain an annoying set of guests, then you are the annoying set of guests.

Bungalow complex names 

Bungalow complex names are always two words long. One of the words has to be completely inaccurate. For example, a complex called Vista Mar will either have no view at all or be miles from the sea. A complex called Sandy Golf will be either miles from the golf course, or nowhere near the beach. The more paradisiacal the name, the more inaccurate it will be. 

Bungalow complexes named after places are always named after a holiday destination that is more exotic than Gran Canaria. They scream out "welcome to your bungalow, we bet you'd rather be in Waikiki / Cuba / Tahiti".

Bungalow door locks

All bungalow doors  are fitted with ridiculous locks that are impossible to work out. The first time you try to open the door, you have to spend ten minutes fiddling with the key and the handle befoe getting in. Then you have to work out how to lock the door again. You only truly understand the door lock on the day you leave. By the next year, you've forgotten it and have to start again.

The light switch dance

You though the door lock was complicated. Now try to switch on the lights. First you have to work out which key goes in the hole to make them all work (don't worry about the fridge, it's wired separately). Then you have to find out which switch does what. Why does the switch by the front door only turn on the light inside the microwave? The lamp in the corner? Forget it because nobody has found the switch for it since 2004. The patio light switch? That's in the bedroom, inside the wardrobe.

What is that for?

All bungalows must contain one obsolete piece of electrical equipment or mysterious appliance. A 1970s radio, for example, or an old-school cube-shaped television that only shows three German channels. If everything in your bungalow seems modern and up-to-date, search the kitchen cupboards. There is bound to be an egg slicer, melon baller or a coffee-maker with 17 components.

We're missing a plate

No matter how many people you have in your bungalow, there will always be a piece of cutlery or crockery missing. It's like the god of bungalows sneaks in the night befoe you arrive and removes a medium-sized plate.

Alex says: Ever wondered where bungalows buy their stuff? It's from a shop called "Too Boring To Bother Stealing". Why? Bacause everone has room in their luggage for a quality melon baller.

Little friends

All bungalows must contain a cockroach or a gecko. It's the law. If you haven't found it by the time you leave, then it's in your luggage. Have fun unpacking.

Sunbed wars

Bungalow complexes tend to be relaxed places, except when it comes to bagging a sunbed by the pool. Lounger wars bring out the worst in every nationality and unless the complex has rules and enforces then, there will always be tension in the sunshine. 

While everyone blames the Germans if they arrive at the pool and all the beds are taken, we've noticed that the situation is a little more complex.

Germans do get up early and bag the best beds, but they won't break the complex rules so if you can only reserve after a certain time, they set their alarms.

The British wake up late and hungover, stagger to the pool and then blame the foreigners for taking their beds.

Scandinavians avoid the problem by staying on their own bungalow terraces all day and walking to the pool for a swim when they overheat.

Canarians don't get up early to get their towels down. They just leave them on the loungers overnight.

The Dutch go to the beach.

Temperamental fridges

Don't bother fiddling with the dial because bungalow fridges only have two temperature settings. They are either so cold that everything is frozen, or they are so warm that even UHT milk curdles in hours. 

How much for ham?

The little machine that prints out the price stickers for goods in bungalow complex shops is always set to add an extra zero. That why three slices of ham and two bananas can cost as much as a meal out. Not that most people notice as thy only visit the shop to buy fresh bread and big bottles of water. 

Bungalow shops also open and close at bizarre times and often shut for a whole day to do something called inventory. Maybe it's Canarian for "staff day at the beach".