'With Dogs, They Might Spend a Few Minutes With Each Other Before They Do It, But the Brits Don't Even Bother With That'

Ouch. The residents of the Greek island of Malia aren't so fond of the British youth who invade in search of cheap sex and even cheaper booze.

Dawn breaks over Malia and casts a shaft of sunlight over the wreckage of the night. Young men and women - white-faced and with glazed, unseeing eyes - wander the streets like the living dead.

Others lie flat on their backs in the streets, semi-comatose. Trails of blood on the pavement reveal where revellers have fallen or been in a fight.

In the budget hotels, girls lie in unfamiliar beds next to boys they've just met. When they wake up with crippling hangovers, they'll ask themselves: 'Did we?'

It's Thursday in Crete's premier 'party' resort, and, as usual, it's been a busy night at the medical centre - around 50 Brits turning up for treatment to cuts, sprains and wrist injuries from fighting.
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There are no boundaries, no restraints. It is an ugly scene that reveals a terrifying picture of British society. All the problems back home - binge-drinking, crime, promiscuity, teenage pregnancies - are magnified here to grotesque proportions.

Some of the young holidaymakers are out of their minds on ecstasy (the drug of choice) or cocaine or heroin, which locals says is easily obtained from dealers who hang around the bars.

When they're in this state, many of the tourists grab someone to have sex with. No one bothers with chat-up lines; there's no need.

The locals look on with contempt. As one Greek put it: 'With dogs, they might spend a few minutes with each other before they do it, but the Brits don't even bother with that.'