If thousands of holidaymakers start suing, the costs will run into millions
For decades, the ritual of the dawn towel — draped across a sunlounger hours before its owner arrives — has been a minor but telling theatre of human selfishness at play in paradise. Now, a German pilot's lawsuit against his tour operator has given that frustration legal weight, with courts ruling that holiday companies bear a duty to ensure guests can meaningfully access the facilities they have paid for. The ruling, born from one family's mornings of fruitless searching on the island of Kos, may quietly reshape how the entire Mediterranean hospitality industry manages its poolsides.
- A German court has ruled that tour operators are legally responsible for maintaining fair sunbed access — not merely for advertising it — opening the door to mass litigation across Europe.
- Families on package holidays have been waking at dawn, watching their children lie on concrete floors, while hundreds of loungers sat empty beneath strangers' towels.
- The frustration has spilled beyond polite complaint: in Ibiza, guests so enraged by midnight towel-placers began throwing them into the pool, and the practice stopped overnight.
- Hotels in Cyprus, France, and Turkey are already responding with allocation systems — numbered parasols, horn-signalled clearances, and check-in assignments — dismantling the free-for-all that made the problem possible.
- The pilot at the centre of the case warns that if thousands of holidaymakers follow his lead into court, the financial exposure for travel companies could run into the millions.
David Eggert, a pilot from Düsseldorf, paid over €7,000 to take his family to Kos in 2024. Each morning at 6 a.m., he rose and walked the resort searching for somewhere to sit — all 400 loungers already claimed by towels, their owners still asleep. His children ended up on the floor. He sued his tour operator, arguing the company had failed to enforce the resort's own ban on towel reservations.
The court agreed, with nuance: operators cannot guarantee a sunbed at every moment, but they are obliged to maintain a reasonable ratio of loungers to guests and to build systems that make that ratio real. Eggert called it a very important ruling — and a warning. He predicted that when other families face the same problem this summer, they will remember his case. If thousands sue, he said, the costs will run into the millions.
The problem, other travellers confirmed, was never isolated. Holidaymakers in Zante, Antalya, and across the Mediterranean described the same daily scramble, the same resigned retreat from the pool. The towel had become an instrument of quiet aggression, deployed in the small hours to colonise shared space.
But change is already arriving. On France's Mediterranean coast, some holiday camps now sound a horn twice daily: if you are not present at your lounger, your belongings are removed to lost property. In Cyprus, one hotel assigns each guest a numbered sunbed for their entire stay at check-in, with requests for preferred spots handled with what one 73-year-old visitor described as fairness and attentiveness. Another resort allocates one parasol per two guests, with beds on either side — a family of four receives four beds, no negotiation required.
The elegance of these systems lies in what they remove: the choice, the competition, and the 6 a.m. alarm. Whether the rest of the industry follows will depend on how many more families decide, as Eggert did, that a ruined holiday is worth fighting for in court.
David Eggert, a 48-year-old pilot from Düsseldorf, paid €7,186 to take his wife and two children to Kos, Greece, in 2024. What should have been a family holiday became a daily frustration: every morning at 6 a.m., he would wake and search for a place to sit by the pool. Twenty minutes of walking, looking, hoping. His children ended up lying on the floor because the loungers—all 400 of them at this large resort—were already claimed. Not occupied. Just claimed. Towels draped across them while their owners slept in their rooms or wandered into town.
Eggert sued. He argued that his tour operator had failed to enforce the resort's own ban on towel reservations, and that the company bore responsibility for ensuring guests could actually use the facilities they had paid for. The court agreed, though with a careful distinction: judges acknowledged that a tour operator cannot guarantee every guest a sunbed at every moment. But they ruled that operators do have an obligation to maintain what they called a "reasonable" ratio of loungers to guests, and to establish systems that make this ratio meaningful.
The ruling landed like a stone in still water. Eggert told the Daily Mail it was a "very, very important" decision—a warning to the industry. He predicted that when summer arrives and other families face the same problem, they will remember his case and sue too. "If thousands of holidaymakers start suing travel companies, the costs will run into the millions," he said. The math is simple. The threat is real.
Other travelers confirmed the problem was widespread. Andrew Mills from Newcastle spent most of his days away from the pool during a holiday in Zante because sunbeds were reserved by 6 a.m. Another holidaymaker said a recent trip to Antalya, Turkey, had been diminished by the same scramble. The issue was not isolated to one resort or one country. It was systemic.
But the ruling has already prompted change. Some Mediterranean resorts are moving away from the free-for-all model entirely. On France's Mediterranean coast, certain holiday camps now sound a horn twice daily—a signal that if you are not physically present at your lounger, your towel and belongings will be removed to lost property. In Protaras, Cyprus, one hotel enforces a "sunbed tenant" system where guests are assigned a lounger for their entire stay and must inform staff if they want to switch. Colin Davison, 73, from Newcastle, praised a similar allocation system at a resort in Paphos, Cyprus, calling it "brilliant." At that hotel, guests receive their assigned sunbed at check-in and can request their preferred location, with changes handled "with fairness and attentiveness."
Another traveler described a numbered parasol system in Cyprus: the hotel allocates one parasol per two guests at the start of the holiday, with two sunbeds on either side. A family of four receives two parasols and four beds. The elegance of the system is that it removes choice from the equation—and with it, the dawn dash.
Not all solutions are official. One holidaymaker recounted a night in Ibiza when guests grew so frustrated with midnight towel-placement that they began throwing the towels into the pool. The practice stopped immediately. It is a crude solution, born of exasperation, and not one hotels would recommend. But it illustrates how far the tension had escalated before courts and resorts began to act.
What happens next will depend on whether Eggert's prediction holds true. If other families sue, the financial pressure on tour operators will mount. If resorts continue to adopt allocation systems, the sunbed wars may finally end—replaced by the quieter, fairer logic of assigned spots and numbered parasols.
Citas Notables
It was a big hotel, very fancy, with about 400 loungers. And all 400 loungers had towels on them. The people were not actually using the loungers.— David Eggert
Tour operators have an obligation to ensure there is an organisational structure to guarantee a reasonable ratio of sunbeds to guests.— Court ruling
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why did it take a lawsuit to change something that seems so obviously unfair?
Because for years, resorts treated it as a guest problem, not a management problem. The hotel wasn't stopping people from reserving loungers with towels—so from the resort's perspective, it wasn't their responsibility. The tour operator said the same thing. No one was accountable until a court said someone had to be.
But the judge didn't say the tour operator had to guarantee every guest a sunbed, right?
Correct. They said the operator had to ensure a reasonable ratio of loungers to guests, and put systems in place to make that ratio work. That's different from promising everyone gets a bed whenever they want. It's about fairness of access.
What made Eggert's case stick when presumably others had complained before?
He had a clear paper trail—he paid for a holiday, the resort had a rule against towel reservations, the rule wasn't enforced, and he had concrete evidence of the harm: his children lying on the floor. That specificity mattered. It wasn't abstract. It was a family's ruined holiday.
Do you think the allocation systems will actually work, or will people just find new ways to game them?
The numbered parasol system seems harder to game because there's no ambiguity—you get spot 47, that's yours for the week. The horn-and-removal system works because it removes the incentive to reserve early. But yes, people are creative. The real change is that hotels are now treating it as a management problem, not a guest problem.
What does this say about the power of litigation?
It says that sometimes an industry won't change until someone makes it expensive to stay the same. Eggert's lawsuit cost the tour operator money. The threat of thousands more lawsuits costs them millions. That's what finally got attention.