A journalist who was among 400 guests staying at a Spanish hotel block that collapsed has returned home to tell her tale.

Aberdeen Evening Express columnist Moreen Simpson was staying with her husband Richard Bennett at a Majorcan resort and was at dinner when the wing collapsed.

Here she tells her story, first published in the Evening Express.

It was the second-last day of what had been a fantastic fortnight in Majorca.

That Thursday we lay by the magnificent pool wishing we didn’t have to leave what was one of the best hotels we’d ever stayed at.

The Picafort Park in C’an Picafort, in the rugged North-east of the island, was a Thomson Gold – four-star, no children, ideal for couples to wind down and shake off the stress of life back home. We were in block G of the eight, three-storey blocks of bedrooms.

That evening, around 8pm, we were finishing off our meal in the restaurant when the manager suddenly shouted: “Everyone from block E go to reception immediately. Emergency.” The journalist in me sensed something was badly wrong.

A few minutes later, we walked outside to the pool, its deep blue lights shining through the gathering darkness.

On the opposite side, we saw a greyish, silvery cloud of dust rising high into the night sky.

We walked towards it and peered through. It was like a bomb-site. Only part of block E was still standing. One side had collapsed, to the ground – a ghastly scene of twisted metal, huge concrete slabs, crushed balconies lying one on top of the other. Yet we’d heard not a sound.

My blood ran cold. Anyone in there would certainly have been killed.

Suddenly we heard sirens and the sky lit up with flashing orange emergency lights.

Ashen-faced guests gathered in huddles as they struggled to take in the terrifying scene. All we could think about was how many people might have been inside.

It was around an hour before the announcement came that everyone had been accounted for. Everyone cheered. The relief was almost explosive.

For the next four hours more than 400 of us were together in the bar and reception areas, everyone in a deep state of shock.

Incredibly, Margaret and Ian Angus from Banchory, who had been in the doomed block and had possibly lost all their possessions, smiled and joked their way through those traumatic hours.

“We’re alive, aren’t we?” said Margaret. “What else matters?”

Thomson reps revealed everyone was being evacuated.

The next day, we had to wait for hours to be allowed to go back to our rooms for the rest of our clothes. Many of the women were still visibly shaking, including me. My husband went back to pack. “You would have cried,” he said afterwards. “In daylight, it looked even worse. Everything was silent. It was so sad.”

Four days on, and I can still hardly believe what happened. It was a miracle no-one died. And I’m still shaking.

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