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The Song Challenge:   'They're Giving It Up At The Hotel California' . . . British tourists held a Spanish hotel manager hostage in protest at what they claimed were appalling conditions at their hotel.   Police were called eventually to rescue the man, who had been barricaded in his office for two hours.  The 19 British families involved in the protest say that they wanted an explanation for conditions at the Hotel Mallorca in the resort of El Arenal on Majorca, which they say included animal bones, clothes and condoms floating in a filthy pool; hotel food that was crawling with ants; and bedrooms that were infested with cockroaches.   Breakfast consisted of stale bread.   The families' all-inclusive holiday cost almost �1,000. Louis Aristos, of the travel agents Sun Private Travel Ltd, said that the hotel and tour operators had assured the company that the conditions were not as bad as was claimed.   "We have not received complaints from other people we have booked into the hotel."   A spokesman for the 210-bed hotel said that it had been ordered to carry out repairs last year to avoid the risk of being closed.   He said that the hotel was old but of a good standard and did not suffer from the problems raised by the tourists.   The pool was cleaned daily, he added, and ants were found in bedrooms because tourists took food into their rooms.   The man held hostage was a representative of the tour company, the spokesman said.   He has since been treated for depression and is now off work.


Hotel Mallorca by Bradypus
(To the tune of 'The Dance of the Hours' by Amilcare Ponchielli, via Alan Sherman)

Hello Muddah, hello faddah
I am at the Hotel Mallorca
In the brochure it looked smashing
But it seems that it has taken a real bashing

In the photo the pool's inviting
To go swimming would be exciting
Next time I'm swimming in the ocean
Because here I'm simply going through the motions

Spanish Omelette and Paella
Are the food for this fine fellah
But the menu is much shorter
All they feed us on is bread washed down with water

In my bedroom I was snacking
But the fire-ants were attacking
And they left as dawn approaches
They were scared off by a squad of killer roaches

So the manager we upbraided
In his office barricaded
Said he'd try to make things better
'Just relax', he said, then took a long Siesta

Now he's bussed us to Spanish beaches
Gave us cold beer, ice cream and peaches
In the sunshine nothing seems wrong
Watching senoritas sunbathe without tops on

Fumigated, the rooms are cleaner
And the salad is fresher, greener
Everything now is so much better
Muddah, faddah, kindly disregard this letter!

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