Woke up at 11am for no apparant reason. This was a good thing as I had to go down to reserve my bed (pay for another night) by 11am. When I got back, my roommate asked if I wanted to record some of his discs. Well of course I did. His friend, another roomie, found what I was doing and offerred to let me record his stuff as well. This is a good thing and a bad thing. The good part is that I got Moby Play, Big Bad Voodoo Daddy, Seal, Barenakedladies, Weezer, Garth Brooks Passport (live double album), Radiohead OK Computer and The Bends, swapped my U2 Zooropa for U2 Greatest Hits 1980-1990, Savage Garden, Portishead Dummy, Bella Fleck and the Flecktones, Phish Billy Breathes, and a Led Zepplin compilation. The bad part is that that took until 7am the next morning -- solid :o( I ate all my batteries and most of his as there wasn’t an outlet in any of the rooms or the hall and I didn’t want to live in the bathroom (although that’s where I recorded the last half disc of music). I had some dolmades to eat at 5pm and was able to dash out to burger king for a whopper meal and a whopper at about 10:30pm. I got to bed at 7am but coughed until 8am. This phlegm thing gets old. When I enter a city with bad air (Cairo, Athens, Barcelona, etc) I generate enough mucous to film Ghostbusters III-VI. C’est la vie, the price I pay for travel I guess. The linguist in Stargate had the same problem...
Tip: Duracel is not the best choice of battery in a minidisc player. They die faster than any other alkaline battery I’ve used.
Woke at 4pm, starvin marvin! I found a barber that was completely down with the conspiracy. Right, what conspiracy -- like you don’t know. I’ve been trying to grow hair for a while now and I’d make a lame ass chia pet. Anyhoo, I had a bit of fluff goin and decided to get the goat clipped and have a nice trim around the ears and neck, nothing radical and definately a minimalist approach to removal off the top. Sparky down at the barber shop decided I’d look better with a cut like most other spaniards and gave me a high and tighty. Not what I had in mind. I figured that if I was going to have short hair then I was gonna have real short hair -- so I went down to the wood again. So much for months of growth :o( On the upside, it’s much cooler this way ;o) After the cut I decided that my face was lookin a bit scruffy (funny how it didn’t look that scruffy before the cut) so I went back for a shave and bought 5 more minidiscs and 8 alkaline batteries on the way back -- half of them for the guy who lent me the lame ass duracells. For dinner (remember I was starvin) I had an excellent sausage and some greens (I’m believing it was spinach) at the rotisserie chicken place. There was an argument going on in spanish that I felt the need to join in on. It turns out that they were arguing on how many countries bordered Austria. What a weird thing to argue over. I went and got a map. That didn’t satisfy them for some reason. It’s a map for christ’s sake! The definitive word on who borders whom. One of the other guys went and got his atlas. Ah-ha! There was the problem. The atlas was from 1972. Anyone familiar with the country Czechoslovakia? Which is now the Czech Republic and Slovakia. So, the answer is 6 or 7 countries border Austria, depending on what year you’re living in. Go figure spanish. They should argue about something sensible, like whether the leader of their country should be impeached because of a bit of sexual infidelity while on the phone to congress. Anyway, back at the ranch I met a chick on her way to Ibiza! Excellent, I’m going to Ibiza! I picked her brain for information, saving me doing the research on my own, and found that the next boat leaves on wednesday at 11pm. Cool. Then beer followed with aussies Kirrily and Tracey. I ended up collecting a massive group and led them all to the Black Sheep Pub and finally to the pier for dancing again. Same story as before. Leave clubs at 5am and sleep at 6am.
Woke at 3pm, hungry as hell again, and set out to get my hair fixed, eat, and buy a boat ticket to Ibiza. It’s much harder than you think to cut all of someone’s hair off. If you miss a couple it’s quite annoying, especially if the person is me. On the way out of the hostel I met a couple from Bellingham (near Seattle, that’s where I’m from) named Mike and Heather. We chatted for a while and I finally sat down and drank a nice Weissbeer. At like 6pm I finally pried myself away. The barber didn’t believe that there was anything wrong with it, but I got him to fix it just the same. I found the place to buy a ticket to Ibiza and got a one-way for 6900ptas (less than US$40). I hope to either get an EasyJet flight to the UK from there or, even better, hitch a ride on a boat headed back to the UK (lots of brits float down for the weekend and such). At 8:30pm we went to a new restaurant called La Fonda. It’s very nice, has great food, and is way cheap. We’re speculating that the prices will increase drastically as soon as the restaurant establishes itself. We dined from 8:30-11:15pm and it was yummy. Our group was a fun one consisting of Brent from amsterdam, Mike and Heather from Bellingham, Carissa from New York (the chick with the Ibiza info), and myself (obviously). I got to EasyEverything (EasyJet’s answer to the internet) at midnight and paid 1000ptas for 5 hours of internet. The way it works is that the price per hour fluctuates depending on the number of people using the system. When I bought it I was getting 50 minutes for 200ptas. Throughout the night I saw it reach over 4 hours for 200ptas and now it’s at 6 hrs for 200ptas and it’s 8:40am (doh!!). They shut the system down for 15 minutes at 7am to reboot it. Also, my machine locked up whilst using Microsoft Works (there’s an oxymoron for ya right there) and I had to wait 5 minutes while the machine rebooted -- I couldn’t just switch machines :o( Gotta love technology...
Right, so I’m current, tired, and must leave. I’ll upload this puppy and be off. Have a nice one and I apologize for the boring read this time. Although partying every night is fun for me I can see that it gets very monotonous for you.
Later... Turns out that the whole night only cost me 750ptas. Ok, it would have only cost me 750ptas had I not purchased 1000ptas worth of time, so I left with 250ptas of credit that I gave to a kiwi friend of mine back at Kabul. Still 1000ptas for over 9 hours of internet time is a good value :o).
Got back to Kabul after a long night of internet at around 10am. Because checkout is at 11am I took a brief nap from 10:30-11:15am, then sat and drooled in the common room in a half slumber for a few hours. Around 2pm I actually moved and went to eat again at La Fonda. The problem with that restaurant, nice and cheap as it is, is that it nickel and dimes you to death. I still paid 2000ptas, but got a massive seafood salad, pork cheeks (I thought it'd be different -- never order this), half litre of house red wine, orange cake with chocolate sauce (Brent had this last night and it was simply amazing), and a double espresso. I'd have spent less at burger king, but then it would have been burger king... I actually went to the Museú D'art Contemporani De Barcelona at 4pm! I think I anticipated it too much. It was cool and all, lots of video was used in the displays, not your standard museum, but not all that I had built it up to be in my mind. Bonus: Air Conditioning :o) The best exhibit (IMHO) was a large rag doll lookin thing laying on its side. Now this doll wouldn't have been considered great by any stretch, in fact, any 10 year old could have made it, but they had a small projector that shone a film of a girl's face on it as she spoke -- spooky stuff. Arguably more scarey than the Blair Witch Project, but then I'm biased there as I felt that Rug Rats: The Movie was probably more frightening than Blair Witch.
After the museum I stopped in at a market for bread, peanut butter, raspberry jam, 4 bananas, a litre and a half of water, and that very same mixed fruit juice that I was drinking in Andorra. i finished the juice off by the time I got back to Kabul and then sat around in the common room making folks feel bad that they weren't going to Ibiza like me *grin*. Someone mentioned off hand that I needed to remove my packs from storage by 7pm or wait 'til the next day -- this occurred at 7:05pm. So, after getting my bags I casually sauntered up stairs and stole a shower, drying with a towel that I found in the shower room that, I'm sure, was covered with filth and stuff, but was dryer than I was. Feeling better I went back to the common room to continue gloating about my impending amazing time in Ibiza. By the time I left there were half a dozen folks planning to go to Ibiza on the next possible boat -- mwuhahaha! I washed my feet off at 9:45pm (they were coal black from walking around the hostel with no shoes on), donned shoes, and left for the ship at 10pm. No worries, plenty of time. Sat down on the ship at 10:30pm and went promptly to sleep, waking at 12:30 out at sea and starving. Dinner consisted of two sandwiches of peanut butter, raspberry jam, and bananas (yum!). I dropped in my newly acquired recording of Portishead Dummy and fell back to sleep.
Due to my excessive sleeplessness and lack of a room I only got in a partial workout. I figure just being awake was struggle enough.
Some dude working for the boat woke me at 7:15am in anticipation of our arrival. He was a bit early as we didn't actually arrive until 9am. Whatever. In the interim I found that something was amiss with my left eye. All pink and oozy. Ewww :o( Could be a number of things, all related to the fact that I had slept either not at all or in sub-optimal conditions in the past couple of days. I'll wait a bit and see if it fixes itself (self-repairing systems rock). I tried a few places and found a hotel at 9:30am with a single room available for the low-low price of only 6000ptas for one night (they only had it available for one night). Ouch! That's over US$30. Cak! I contemplated it for about 30 seconds and paid the price. The nice lady that took my money then told me to go away until noon. Drat. She did kindly stow my bags for me. The day was humid and hot as I would imagine hell to be. My sleepless condition didn't help a bit as I stumbled around the city. By 11am I had secured a double room in Pension La Peña (couldn't find a single) for only 4000ptas per night, but available for only three nights (21, 22, 23 July). 2000ptas per night cheaper even if I don't find someone to share it with me. Ibiza's quite the beautiful place, at least the parts I saw of it. They got the water thing going for them, being as it's an island, and the old city is built within these massive walls up on a hill. The hill isn't remote or anything, the new city crowds around the wall at the base of the hill -- I guess there's little fear of being attacked by anything that would be dissuated by a mere stone wall anymore. During my stumble I found a fruit stand and had strawberries, a peach, a kiwi, and a banana for breakfast. Then, at 11:30am I was in the old town, too damned hot to walk further, and thirsty so I bought a orange/strawberry/banana/rum drink and sipped it until just after noon. I'm thinking that I didn't really enjoy the orange in that drink. By the time I got back to the hotel it was 12:15. I got my bags, dove into a shower, and then slept from 12:30-10pm waking up dripping sweat, but it wasn't that hot. My eye must be infected or something. Maybe I'll go to the pharmacy tomorrow (pharmacists are like doctors around here, prescribing junk on the spot). An excessive workout, shower, 2 sandwiches like the ones I had on the boat, and I was ready to go out, although a bit groggy still. I checked out the scene from 12:30-2am, at which point I conceded that my grogginess was getting worse, not better. Back in my room I removed my contacts and set my alarm for 8am with the intention of meeting the next boat from Barcelona which would, in theory, be bearing my friends.
Doh! It turns out that my alarm doesn't ring if it's left in the "set the damned alarm" mode -- I woke at 10:30am and checked out just after 11am. I left my large bag (which really isn't that large) with the nice lady again and went out into the plaza in front of the hotel. I was feeling much less groggy than the night before and I believe that my eye looked better (ever the optimist -- too bad that's not "optometrist"), but still wasn't in a mood to go traipsing around the city yet, so I sat on a bench in the shade for a couple hours. During that time I had breakfast (two of the same sandwiches, 2 peaches, 1 banana) and met a guy from Czech Republic who sat on the other end of my bench to eat as well. The weather is better today, not nearly so muggy but probably just as hot at 33 celcius (like 92 farenheit). I was told that I could get into my room at the new place after 1pm, so I waited for that. At 2pm I had gotten my large bag and walked over to Pension La Peña where they first told me that they were full (completo!) until I produced a receipt from the day before. Then they told me to come back in an hour as the room was not yet clean. Whatever, I just wanted to drop the bags. The conversation took longer than it should have, but was greatly helped by a guy from california that was staying there and offerred to translate for me. Finally, I dropped my bags in the room and went looking for an internet cafe. That was 2:30pm. At 4:45pm I found one and was somewhat frustrated -- these things should be easier to find. Nice place but kinda spendy at 700ptas per hour. Whatever, it's air conditioned and I was in the mood, so here I am.
Later... Got done with that pesky e-mail thang at 6:15pm and then wandered the markets in the blazing heat. Nice enough place. The markets are much cleaner than those in Cairo, but then again the entire country is cleaner than Cairo. The streets have that narrow, polished-stones-from-years-of-use look about them. Most of the buildings are painted white -- I'm thinking it's a reflective thing, trying to keep cool. For dinner I found a place selling spaghetti bolognaise and chicken salad, so I ate that and used what they call beer (thin and not so tasty IMHO) to wash it down. In exchange they charged me nearly 2000 ptas -- in hindsight, they got the better end of that deal. The evening was pleasant as it cooled. I made the short trek to the pointe (you know, land jutting out, water all around, that type of pointe) where I met some Germans (5 of 'em). They were hanging out chatting in german (a quite natural thing for them to do) and then, all of a sudden like, one of them peeled off to take a group photo. I noticed the obvious problem and offerred to take the photo for them so that the entire group would be represented. By way of thanks they spoke briefly to me in english. My evening completed I returned to my rented room to read and finally drop off into sleep around 1am.
I actually woke today for the 8:30am boat! I found some San Sebastian folks on it -- they were the aussie neighbors of Nori and Juliana. This, to me, was an incredible stroke of luck. I was waiting specifically for Anne-Marie, the aussie chick from Barcelona that said that she was following me over to Ibiza, but any friends would do as I was feeling a bit like a stranger in a strange land. Their names? Michael, Tom, Natalie, and Matt (heh, wrote 'em down :o). Their first task was to find accommodation. While a couple of them ran the area looking for lodging the other two and I waited at the dock with their bags (standard procedure for backpackers). While there we saw thousands of little fish -- I found it noteworthy. The tourist information office opened at 10am, providing them with a list of all the cheap accommodation available in Ibiza Town (that's the part of Ibiza I was currently in). From that list they found one and only one place that could take them, and not at a cheap rate -- they took it. I left them and went back to bed at 10:30am and slept until around 4:30pm. Feeling energized, I engaged in a mightier than normal workout leaving me standing in puddles on the floor. Then, braving the heat and the intense sun (even in the late afternoon and evening hours it's hot as hell) I went in search of a beach. After a bit of a walk I encountered a friendly German guy (lots of Germans in Ibiza Town) who had a map. The map told me that I was headed the wrong direction -- of course. Hmmmpf. Fine, I went and e-mailed for an hour (to curb the flow of sweat), and then stopped in at the grocery for ravioli, peanut butter, and water (to replenish the supply of sweat). The walk back was utterly uneventful, followed by more water watching at the pointe.
The Aussie guys and I had arranged to meet at 11pm here in the heart of Ibiza Town. I went at 10:45 to be sure not to miss them -- they arrived at 11:30. Good thing I was early! We got an overpriced poor excuse for a beer (2-for-1, what a bargain!), and then walked the area to get a feel for the place. They were tired from the trip and took off at 1:30am. I stuck around until 2am talking to a few local girls who were studying english, thirsty for the conversation. I went back to eat and relax whilst listening to Savage Garden and Sting before falling into a deep coma-like sleep.
- Editor's Note:
- From now through 8 August, I'll be adding a brief summary of my daily events in Ibiza. I do this because alot of what happens in Ibiza depends on what day of the week it is, which corresponds with which club, if any, you attend. For some this information will be helpful, for others it will simply be background noise that can easily be ignored. Another interesting thing that happens is that days blur into one another as night is stretched into the next day and beyond. I try to make logical breaks between the days, which may or may not occur when days are normally thought to begin/end. This, 23 July, is the beginning of my Ibiza experience :o)
- To get a better overall view of Ibiza, if you happen to be so inclined, check out the Rapture TV website for damned near anything you'd ever want to know about the island, including some great still shots and lousy audio/video streams. Look closely, as it's possible that I may be featured in one or more of the shots since I recall seeing the Rapture TV crews hard at work while I was there.
Sunday Summary: Day: Sleep/Read, Evening: Bora Bora, Night: Unknown Club
I woke around midday (12:30-ish if you must know) and finished The Firm by 5:30pm -- cool book in that the last half diverges significantly from the movie (one might say that the movie diverges from the book, but since I saw the movie first...). Feeling quite starved, I ate a muffin and finally went for dinner at 7:30pm (the large gap in time would be consumed by my workout, which I am faithfully not mentioning unless of course I miss it in whole or in part -- hmmm, that was an odd parenthetical note...). Showering does little good here. It cleans away the dirty sweat and replaces it with clean sweat. There's a fine point where drying yourself actually causes more perspiration than what is being absorbed. Odd yet strange... Anyhoo, I wandered about and ate another dose of spaghetti bolognaise (that's pasta with meat sauce), chicken salad (simply a green salad with various veggies and chicken on it), and a sprite for 1800 ptas -- at least I didn't have to drink more of that beer-like substance.
One of the local chicks (If you think about it the term isn't so bad: The english blokes call their women "bird", so a young "bird" would of course be a "chick". Now y'all broads can relax about it ;o) told me that the best place to go on sunday nights was Bora Bora -- a free beach disco club type place. My plan was to show up there at 10pm. After dinner I bought a post card to mail to a friend who has since returned to australia and specifically requested that I send a card of Ibiza (I type this in confidence knowing that nobody reads this hooey so I won't suddenly get a flood of post card requests) and a cool t-shirt. After dropping the goods back at my pad I high-tailed it down to the local bus stop. I found my way to Bora Bora by 10:45pm (right on time). I danced a bit and then stumbled into a South Aftrican dude named Jean (pronounced "Zhan", like Jean Claude Van Damme) around 11:30. The truth is that I stumbled into a chair and Jean asked if I was ok -- which I was, of course, I meant to stumble into that particular chair. The dance music stopped at midnight, at which point the beach disco club turned into merely a beach bar. I had bought a vodka-red bull (that would be a drink from the bar) for 1500 ptas (ouch!) and decided that one was enough. Jean had the same feeling so we went acrossed the street to the store and bought a fifth of vodka and three red bulls each for about 1000 ptas each. We kicked back at Bora Bora beach and swallowed the poison, making the world seem a much more enjoyable place for a while. In our fully augmented state we proceeded down the road to an unknown club, paying a mere 1000 ptas cover, and danced 'til dawn -- well, I danced 'til dawn and Jean danced a bit, passed out a bit, and then danced 'til dawn, completely missing the naked chick on the stage.
Jean and I went to a cafe near the club where we split up and I wandered down to the beach to watch the sunrise. The air was so nice and I was so sticky (that perspiraion thing ya know) that I decided to strip down and go for a swim as the sun rose out of the sea. I followed some folks to the bus stop around 7:45am, and the bus actually arrived at 8:45am. The english guys I was waiting with had gone to a Foam Party at another nearby club where they fill the room with foam and let folks frollick around in it to the thumping of the dance tunes -- great fun I hear, I must try one. I got back to my room by 9:30am for a shower and some much needed sleep.
Monday Summary: Day: Sleep/Music, Evening: Bora Bora, Night: Manumission at Privelege
I was awakened by the maid poking her head in the door at 3:30pm asking if I wanted the room cleaned today? "Mañana, mañana", I said (tomorrow, tomorrow). Being awake but not really wanting to move much I decided to listen to some music -- an excellent thing to do when you are awake but not really wanting to move. That lasted until around 6pm (I didn't want to waste the entire day away after all), as I needed to meet Jean between 7-8pm out at Bora Bora. The shorts I preferred (lightweight off-white baggy long cuordory) were dirty (read: filthy but salvagable) so I washed them in the sink and hung them on the line provided just outside my window. There are lines like this outside all of the windows down the street, so you get this feeling of a narrow street with polished stones (from years of wear from walking), stark white painted walls, and clothing draped all along the walls above your head for a few floors up (everything is at least three or four storeys). I got to Bora Bora at 8:30pm -- again, right on time ;o) I hung out there for a while and then followed Jean to "this cool place to chill, dude". It was located a few hundred feet from Bora Bora one floor below the Jet Apartments reception (which, conveniently, was open 24/7). There were no less than 15 comfy and clean (bonus!) couches down there and very little traffic at this time of night. We dozed from about 9:30 'tl 11pm. Jean then drove me back to Ibiza town (he opted to rent a car instead of paying for accommodation) to drop some things off in my room and try to acquire tickets for a club called Privelege which was hosting their best show that night called Manumission. The problem with buying pre-sale tickets from dudes off the street is that it's a bit dodgy (sketchy, shady, not quite on the up-and-up, etc). The guy out at Playa d'en Bossa (the beach where Bora Bora is located, the largest beach on the island) said that the door price was 8K (ptas of course), with coupon it was 7K and he'd sell his for 6K. The guy in Ibiza Town claimed 9K at the door, 8K with coupon, and selling for 7K. Fine, we went back to Playa d'en Bossa and got a pair for 6K (about US$35.00) each and headed out to Privelege to do a bit of dancin'.
We got to Manumission around 1am and the place was a friggin morgue. The chick at the door stopped me and pointed to the numerous signs that said that white socks were not allowed (I was wearing brown hiking boots, white atheletic socks shoved down, cargo shorts, and an olive t-shirt with the logo "Explore the Continents"). She actually wanted to take my socks from me! Right, I told her that I only had 4 pair of socks. As we argued I gave my socks to Jean who ran them out to his car and returned with a pair of black socks that would do nothing to help my feet out except provide a fully artificial layer between my skin and the leather of my boots. Fair enough, we entered. Turns out it had just opened. No worries, it gave us a chance to wander a bit and get a sense of the place. Privelege, on Manumission mondays, houses a max capacity crowd of 10,000 humanoids (you think I'm being cheeky, but you haven't seen some of the folks that attend.) One of the rooms that we found was open to the air and chock full of plants and foiliage type stuff -- we dubbed it the "jungle room". Here I happened upon an english girl named Lowri who was utterly beautiful in a girl-next-door sort of way. She was wearing a little red cheerleader outfit complete with pom-poms and asked if I wanted to trade clotes. The club was starting to fill up at this point and I looked around to see hundreds of folks utterly uninterested in me and dressed in quite the bizarre manner. "Sure!", I said. That was the last point I saw Jean for about half an hour as he was too embarassed to be seen with me. She and I passed clothes between one another and within minutes I was transformed to the homeliest cheerleader imaginable (my top wouldn't even close in the back). I took my pom-poms and did a circuit in the now packed dance floor, being photographed quite a few times for my amazing looks I'm sure. Oh, another intersting point to note would be that the DJ booth is suspended over a large swimming pool in the center of the main dance area. There is also suspended a pipe from which "rain" falls and, in combination with the numerous fog machines, makes certain that the humidity stays at a maximum all night. By 2am the club was packed, I had traded back and was well on my way to having one of the best nights of my life :oD
Jean met a friend from the other night which brought more fun to the night. The thing about these clubs is that you're always meeting people who are all out for the same thing: to have fun. The only drawback to these places is the price of drinks -- including softdrinks and water, which was sold for the low low price of only 1000 ptas for a half litre (that's US$6.00 for a half litre!). Obviously you weren't allowed to bring any in with you, so in order to stay hydrated you had to spend a mint on liquids and god forbid if you wanted to drink any alcohol! I stuck strictly to water as I bumbled the night away and had an amazing night in triplicate! This was a night of many firsts: my first rave, my first time wearing a cheerleader outfit, junk like that. Manumission isn't just a rave either. It also provides entertainment such as acrobats and tight-rope walkers among other exotic acts. I went back up to the jungle room around 5am and chatted with multiple groups of people until around 6:30am (a group of english girls, a group of english guys and one girl, a couple of english guys (one with a broken, uncast foot -- so he could swim), and even Lowri again who was on a break as she worked for Manumission entertainment). Around 7am I met a guy and his partner who were from San Francisco. The dude had his septum pierced with a stick shoved through it -- friggin ouch! His partner was wearing a leather thong (that's all) -- and I thought I was underdressed... They were in the Trade room, Trade being a predominantly gay club in England. I was definately not in Kansas anymore! Jean was getting tired so we left at 9:15am (I guess it was late enough).
Tuesday Summary: Day: Bora Bora (swim,try to sleep), Evening: Relax/Music, Night: Sleep
Ok, still not asleep from the previous day at Manumission. Jean and I arrived back at Playa d'en Bossa around 10am. I immediately ran to the store to buy 4 1.5 litre bottles for us, one of which (each) we consumed in short order. I then joined Jean at the cafe that we split up at the morning before and watched him eat a sensible breakfast (I wasn't hungry yet, go figure). We made our way over to Bora Bora, which was now in full swing (it pumps as a disco beach from 10am 'til midnight), and rented a couple of those cushy lounge chairs with a mattress and sheet, and one umbrella to share for only 1000 ptas each for the entire day. Jean loaned me an extra pair of swim trunks so I could get a swim in to rinse the night's muck off me. I then tried to sleep, but the beach filled up with mostly naked beautiful people (it was hard to find sand to walk), and the music thumped, and the sun became increasingly intense such that I had to keep moving my chair to stay under the shade of the umbrella. I finally got to sleep around 2pm and woke laying in the sun at 6pm (cak! that would be nearly 4 hours in the sun!!). A swim at 7pm cooled me off, but the sun had already done its damage combined with drying damage from sea salt being on my skin all day. I excelled at all of the novice beach-goer errors, staying with my premise that one should never do anything half-way. I hit Burger King for breakfast around 8pm and got a bus back to my pension immediately after. Once back in Ibiza Town I dashed to the ATM to get funds to pay my now delinquint rent through 'til friday, my plan being to leave Ibiza on Friday (that would be 29 July -- yeah, right. Read on...). The propriators of my pension were none too pleased by my disappearance and let me know in spanish. I got the full gist of what they were saying and apologized as best I could back in spanish, which they seemed to understand and actually began to chuckle at the previous day's events -- silly american. Once back in my room I relaxed in a cool shower (my skin was already starting to tighten and heat up). I laid on top of my bed listening to music and finally fell into a much needed sleep at midnight after a very long day (or two).
Sadly, no workout this day, but for good reason (I felt).
Wednesday Summary: Day: Sleep/Internet, Evening: Bora Bora, Night: Renaissance Live at Privelege
Morning found me around noon (12 hours sleep, not bad ;o). My friggin' scalp hurts! :o( The sun is not my friend. The sun is not my friend. The sun is not my friend... Scalp, forehead (of course), cheeks (don't need that rouge tonight), chest, and stomach are all severely sunburned. This is sadly not uncommon for me, but still annoying as hell. To add insult to injury it's a hot one today, even by Spain's standards. I am not a happy camper }:o| I had a couple PB&J sandwiches and then hit the internet point (shade, air condition, nuf sed). I left my sanctuary in time to get to Bora Bora to meet Jean by 6pm, clinging to shadow like a dryer sheet to the back of an evening gown. I bumbled around a bit until Jean showed up at 7pm and then continued on partying there all night. Jean left at the early hour of 11:30pm as he didn't have the luxury of a room to retire to for a 12 hour night of sleep (park a Volkswagon Golf in the middle of the desert with the windows rolled up and see how far into the day you are able to stay asleep). I hooked up with a couple of Austrians named Peter and Angelo whose english was good enough that I didn't have to sprecken mi deutch (basically, they could speak english so we could communicate). We hung out at Bora Bora until the bar shut (that would be 3am) so that Angelo's date who was working at the bar could go with us to Privelege for Renaissance Live. It wasn't so bad, after all, we were at a beach bar in Ibiza waiting for one of the girls working there. We all got some free shots of things that were very pretty in color (ok, I'll admit it, I had no clue what was in the shots, but the glass was small and it tasted good).
We were hoping that I would get in on her guest list entrance, but the guy at the door was new and she was signed up for three people -- total (we tried to convince them that it was three people plus her, but they wouldn't have any of it). Fine, as I stepped into line a guy approached me and asked if I needed to buy a ticket. That would be how I got into the club for 3000 ptas instead of 7000 ptas ;o) Renaissance Live was a bit slow to begin with. Ok, that's not fair, it was a bit slow until the end, when the house DJ's came in -- Privelege's house DJ's are pretty danged good. I met a french dude named Jerry who turned out to be quite friendly. I bumbled into him a few times throughout the night which made the whole thing more fun, for sure.
- Interlude:
- That's it, isn't it? It's not so much where you go or what you do, although they have a lot to do with it, but who you're with that makes the experience. I'm finding that to be true wherever I go. I can be in an awesome place and alone (or with lousy people) and have a worse time than when in an utterly humm-drumm place with great folks. That's another reason that I can't answer the ever popular question: "What's the best place that you've been?". There are many "best" places that I've been, and you wouldn't necessarily like any of them. Hell, I may not like any of them if/when I return because the folks I met there previously probably won't be there. However, there will most likely be the same type of people in the places, so the odds of meeting someone like the person I met are pretty good. I'm rambling. I'll move on.
Renaissance Live... right. Peter and Angelo were having issues. I don't know what they were on about, I'm not Austrian. All I know is that the waitress from Bora Bora should have ditched them and come with me ;oP *sigh* Anyhoo, Peter went off and fell asleep for a few hours (we didn't leave until 9am when the club shut) and I was having my usual good time. End of the day? I think not :o)
Thursday Summary: Day: Space, Evening: Bora Bora, Night: Sleep (meant to go out, d'oh!)
Still up from yesterday, I got a ride back to Bora Bora with Peter and Angelo -- does anyone else feel a tension in the car?? Prolly just me ;o) I found Jean just up from as good a night's sleep as you can get in a VW Golf. A few minutes later we bought a couple tickets to Space off some folks in the parking lot for a mere 2000 ptas each (entry is normally 6000 ptas). Normally folks would be happy at such a run of luck, but I was just waiting for the moment when I could really use it and it would all be used up. Aye, ever the optimist ;o)
Space rocked! I immediately fell in love with the club. Inside it is very dark with the best light show I'd seen (ok, so I hadn't seen many light shows at the time, but now I'm tellin you that it has an incredible light show). Top that with some excellent trance music and you have a great club. But wait, there's more! Outside they have large fans going to keep you cool in the desert heat, and a screen roof that blocks most of the sun. For music they play your standard funky house music and mixes of popular songs. Pretty damned cool for an after-hours (daytime) club. When we first got there I recognized alot of the folks from Privelege, including Jerry the french guy. Jean took off around 1pm in search of a german woman he was chatting up the evening before, but I stayed 'til the bitter end when they threw me out at 2pm. I probably would have gone at 1pm with Jean, or he may have stayed 'til 2pm with me, but we thought that the thing shut at 3pm. No worries, back to Bora Bora, which was in full swing.
I had a chicken salad and a hamburger for lunch around 3:30pm (seemed healthy to me) and met a couple dodgy local guys, one of whom became a friend that I saw pretty regularly for the next week and then disappeared without a word or a trace -- weird, but nothing's very permanent in Ibiza. A foam party ensued at Bora Bora around 4pm, which is to say that the music kept pumpin at their beach disco and they turned on a machine that puked massive quantities of foam onto their dance floor like a washing machine gone mad. It was definately cool :o) To help with the scene, imagine this: The most beautiful people in the world come to this beach to take most of their clothes off and become more beautiful (yes, it's a topless, "where did I put that thong? Oh it was under my matches." type beach). The sky has nary a cloud in it, and everyone has agreed that a good time must be had by all. It's hot, the music is thumpin' such that everyone moves with it whether they want to or not, and everyone is covered in soap-suds. Nuf sed ;oP~~
I took the most crowded bus I'd seen since Egypt, and definately the hottest. These lovely folks have a rule that you cannot ride in public transportation without a t-shirt. I was drowning by 6:30pm when I got back to Ibiza town (the ride was less than 20 minutes... of pure hell). Back at the ranch I used my best spanish (which was actually improving a bit) to wrangle a couple more days of staying in my room (checkout sunday 30 July -- yeah, right, whatever. keep reading...). I set my alarm for 11:45pm, caught a very nice shower, and fell straight asleep somewhere around 7-7:30pm.
I woke just after 12:30am. Damn. Blinked and it was now 3:45am. Shit (sorry, that's "shoot" for those that prefer it ;o). My throat was somewhat sore, so I consumed a massive quantity of water (nothing special, I'd been drinking tons while in Spain anyway). I guess I didn't actually turn the damned alarm on after setting it. Reset it for 9am, turned it on, checked it, rechecked it, and fell asleep easily. End of wednesday :o)
No workout again, but I did workout since the last time I slept...
Friday Summary: Day: Sleep/Music/Bora Bora, Evening: Bora Bora, Night: Bora Bora (yes, I know it's closed, but it's a beach!)
Damn! So much for using my alarm clock effectively. I snoozed from 9am-11am. Basically I've overslept nearly 12 hours from my originally intended time of 11:45pm the night before. Granted I did wake up a few times and make the decision not to officially wake up, but I was in no condition to make that decision at the time. There should be a qualification exam or something on the snooze button. Crikey!
Jean is leaving today ("Ona a jet plane, don't know if he'll be back again..." -- sorry). I ate a couple PB&J sandwiches before dashing out. My goal was to get out to Bora Bora to see him for a bit before he left. He said that he wasn't going to leave for the airport until 3pm, which means that I should have been able to catch him for a beer or something at 2:30pm (naw, that's not cutting it close at all), but alas it was not meant to be. C'est la vie. I'll see him when I get to London as he lives only half an hour outside of the city and said I could crash on his couch :o)
I found an ATM out at Playa d'en Bossa after giving up the search for my lost South African and then headed for that cafe for a proper meal (the two sandwiches were just enough to keep me from gnawing off one of my arms on the way over). A half chicken, chips, salad, and spaghetti bolognaise later (no, you don't need to set another place!) I was feeling much better and returned to Bora Bora in search of, well, fun :o)
It took its time, but fun finally appeared in the form of six unruly english types on the dance floor of Bora Bora late that evening. They kept wandering in and out, but I eventually got all their names and couplings as: Andrew and Vanessa (Andrew has a site-in-progress at the time of this writing for this Ibiza trip, and I'm liking what I've seen of it), Kristian and Hilda, and Gary and Sara (married a couple days short of three years). They're actually quite nice, and not anything as stuffy as I would think the english would be. Kristian even offerred me their couch as I was to be outdoors after saturday night -- I told him to wait and see what they all thought about it when sober, but thanked them just the same. Andrew and Vanessa begged off for a bit of sleep somewhere around 11pm-ish or something. Something about working and travelling... The remaining four and I talked for a while and were then joined by another english couple that I had met a couple days ago named Gavin and Phillipa (both english but living in Edinburgh, Scotland -- I always thought that that was spelled Edinborough. That would make me wrong.). Gary was so interested in Gavin and Phillipa that he asked them no less than four times in as many minutes what their occupations were (Gavin is a bar manager, Phillipa works with kids to keep them from killing themselves and others, or something like that). (*grin* hiyas Gary! Couldn't leave that bit out now could I?) So the chatting went on for quite some time, and Sara and Hilda trundled off to bed. A bit later Kristian and Gary headed back to the room. Kristian, needing the girls to open the door for him, poked his head in the bedroom window (right near the door, actually) and scared the pee out of them. This, it seems, was bad. Kristian and Gary were then tossed from the apartment and returned to join us for more beer and conversation. They were let back in around 3am-ish.
- Subplot:
- I wanted to go to Pacha (another club). I could have gotten a ride with Peter and Angelo, but thought that I could convince my new english friends to go with me as some of them said that they wanted to go out. Peter and Angelo left around 2am-ish. I didn't know enough about the bus system to know that I could have gotten a bus over there. A taxi would be over 3000ptas and with the entrance on top of that it would be an expensive night. By the time Kristian and Gary were solid that they weren't going it was like 4am and I wasn't going to spend that kind of money on a partial night. As it turns out, I never get to Pacha while in Ibiza :o(
Well, I was kinda marooned over in Playa d'en Bossa until morning (I didn't know that a bus ran every hour to Ibiza Town). Gav and Flip were pulling an all-nighter as well since they were leaving saturday night back to Scotland. We had a grand time waiting for the sun to poke its blazing head up out of the sea, and met some nice young Irish guys who stopped to chat for a while whilst waiting for more Irish guys to show up. The night was fun and I'm glad that I met and hung out with all the folks I, ummm, met and hung out with (Journalism, here I come!! ;o)
Saturday Summary: Day: Space (failed attempt)/Sleep, Evening: Sleep, Night: Bora Bora/Clockwork Orange at Es Paradise
Still wanting to go clubbing from the night before, and not yet ready for bed, I bumbled over to Space at 8am (it's maybe a five minute walk from Bora Bora -- convenient ;o) and cruised the parking lot looking to buy a ticket or at least find a coupon to curb the 5000 ptas entrance burden. In the process of my search I helped one girl with the last 25o ptas required for her entrance and took 3 group photos. The last group that I photographed had an extra free entrance pass (these are given out to bar staff, etc) and gave it to me in appreciation for the photo. Score! I strode up to the entrance, produced my entrance pass, and was immediately chucked out :o( Their explanation was that I was definately selling tickets in the parking lot, which was a very severe offence. I couldn't explain to them that I was actually looking to buy a ticket, and didn't want to tell them that I was given the free pass that was just taken from me in fear that I would somehow get the guy who gave it to me kicked out as well, so I just took the heat and felt bad. I made it back to Ibiza Town by 10:30am, bought some fruit, relaxed and was finally able to fall off into sleep.
Now look, I'm sure that I set my alarm and turned it on, but I didn't wake until 10pm. Normally, for a guy in the middle of a year long wander, this wouldn't be an issue, but I was supposed to meet the brits from the night before at Bora Bora in the evening. 10pm isn't considered evening by anyone that I know. Damn. I got in a hurried half workout in my rush to get to Bora Bora and arrived there at 11:30pm. No brits :o( I did find Gav and Flip and sat with them until around 2am, hoping that the other brits would show up. No such luck. I knew the plan, which was to go to Es Paradise which was hosting their weekly Clockwork Orange show. No worries, I'd go over there and hook up with them in the club. Since it was in San Antonio I took a cab. At the cab stop (yes, you have to walk to the cab stop to get a cab in Ibiza) I met three american girls (I believe that these were my first americans here in Ibiza) who were going to Eden, a club just opposite Es Paradise in San Antonio. The four of us shared the cab, which ran us collectively in the neighborhood of 2500 ptas, but was reasonable for each of us. Enrance was 6000 ptas with a coupon that I found outside. The music was cool, but I didn't find any of my friends inside so I had to make a couple new ones :o) (sorry, don't remember their names, but they were a large group of english guys and we had a great time.) Now here's the thing about that night. It was what they call a "Water Party". That is, they turn on large fountains over the center dance floor which, after enough time, becomes a three foot deep swimming pool -- try not to wear your best shoes. As it happens I wasn't on the main dance floor and decided that I didn't want to risk the damage to my footwear, so I didn't enter the pool. Now I thought about this as I saw all the youngsters frolicking in the pool and wondered if that made me "old", and decided that I may be old, but missing out on the brown (yes, it was brown) pond didn't make me that way. I left when they threw me out (still hoping in vain to see my long lost friends) at 7:30am.
Sunday Summary: Day: Garden of Eden/Beach, Evening: Bora Bora, Night: Judgement Sunday at Eden
As I left Es Paradise I was told by someone that Eden (as I said, the club just opposite Es Paradise) had a day room that was free and open all day (hence the name). It was called The Garden of Eden but was in no way a garden. It was actually a room painted black with a few flashy lights and some non-stop thumpin' music -- just what I was looking for ;o) I hung there until around 10:30am and then headed out to Bora Bora to see what happened to my brits. Turns out I got there just as they were getting up at around 11am. I went down to the beach to wait, giving them a bit of privacy, and had a double espresso and peanut m&m's for breakfast (man, can't even come up with a snappy comment in my defense for that one). I suddenly realized that I had to vacate my room and grabbed the 11:40am bus back to Ibiza Town. A dash back to my pension got me there at noon, precisely when I was to be checked out. I shouted my deepest apologies and brief explanation to the proprietors (in my best spanish, of course), and packed as fast as I could -- 10 mins flat :o) The new folks coming into the room were from california and eager for any bits of knowledge I could pass on to them. I was granted leave to shower in the common showers upstairs, grabbed a quick one, and stowed my packs in reception (basically it was the old couple's front room). I then proceeded as calmly as I could (trying to sweat as little as possible) back to the bus and re-arrived at Playa d'en Bossa to meet the brits on the beach at 1pm. Turns out that they were tired and didn't go out at all the night before. I had just missed them in Bora Bora when I got there at 11:30pm. They were, however, ready and rarin' to go this night. We all hung out on the beach (I've learned to wear my maximal sunblock and cling to the shade at all times -- this gives me the best tan ;o) all day, I caught some sleep from 6pm-7pm on a beach lounge under an umbrella, and then moved to the party already in progress over at Bora Bora.
I basically danced the night away at Bora Bora and then re-met the group at about 11pm when we proceeded in two cabs to Eden (there were seven of us total:Kristian&Hilda, Gary&Sara, Andrew&Vanessa, Me). Having acquired a taste for vodka-red bull, I had a couple of them to drink outside the club (the price quadruples between the bar outside and the club inside) and then bumbled my way through the rest of the night. While in line we met a couple of Scots named Laura and Andrew. I thought they were together, but it turns out that they were just flatmates. This would be the first time I've been picked up on by a guy. He was really nice, and quite butch for a hairdresser. It's true, utterly chiche. I survived with two new friends and no new love interests, which was kinda bad because she was cute ;oP My group of friends that I came with were tired of the music (it all sounded the same to me at that point) and left early -- around 4am-ish. I stayed until 7am and found the bus lineup where I could get the 8am bus. I fell asleep on the 03 back to Ibiza Town but woke as it stopped and people got off at the station (right where I was heading). The 14 from Ibiza Town to Playa d'en Bossa was waiting for me so I stepped on instead of going back to pick up my bags -- they were in the best place I knew of to keep them, sitting in the reception of the pension. I hung out at Bora Bora until around 11:30am, when I made my way downstairs in the Jet Apartments main building to sleep on those lovely couches that Jean showed me.
No workout today, but plenty of exercise.
Monday Summary: Day: Sleep, Evening: Internet (you are, too, important), Night: Drink w/ the brits
Morning, because that's what you call it when you first wake up, came upon me at 6:30pm. Feeling like I had slept on a vinyl couch for a good part of the day (I don't know what that's supposed to mean, just go with it), I donned my swim trunks (that would be a "swimming costume" for y'all brits out there) and plunged into the most beautiful ocean I've encountered. After rinsing the salt water off in one of the many showers provided along the beach, I decided to hie back to Ibiza Town and retrieve my bags. The truth? I desparately needed a change of clothes. The kindly old couple was concerned that I didn't return the night before for my packs, but understood when I explained my situation, laughing when I asked if they had or knew of any available accomodation -- god love 'em. Feeling in a bit of a leisurely mood, I stopped off to do a bit of internetting from 10:15pm-12:45am. The place officially shuts at 11pm but stayed open because folks still wanted to give them money, which should give you a sense of what "officially" means in Spain -- everything is negotiable ;o) As I waited for the bus back to Playa d'en Bossa someone wandered by and told me that they didn't run at night. This was disheartening news, but not devastating as I really had nowhere to go. I leaned against my pack to contemplate things and assess my situation. In the hour I was there many people came by to catch the bus for Amnesia or Privelege (they are opposite eachother in San Rafel, half way between Ibiza Town and San Antoni). My greeting became: "Amnesia or Privelege? Bus 03 one block up." (pointing). Everyone thanked me and moved on -- one block up. I'm such a nice guy :o) Lo and behold, 'round 'bout 1:45am my bus (14) came by but didn't stop -- it stopped one block up at the BUS STATION, go figure. (No, I am not an idiot. The 14 always stops where I was waiting, not one block up, unless it's the hourly 14 between midnight and 8am. It was a special case I was not made aware of. Duly noted.) I easily made it to the next block to catch the bus that I was told was not coming. I wonder how many other things in life would simply work themselves out given enough time...?
Back at Playa d'en Bossa, I stowed my bags under a blanket in a small storage area just off the couch room under the Jet Apartments reception. I was quite happy with myself for finding this place that solved my baggage problems and gave me a place to do my workout, which I have problems doing in front of people 'cuz, frankly, it looks silly. After that I headed out to see who was about at this hour at Bora Bora. On my way I bumped into my group of english friends who were at least a sheet or two to the wind (that would be a bit tipsy for brits, well on their way to being tanked for anyone else in the world) sipping cocktails at the Tahiti Bar (located immediately next door to Bora Bora -- same owners). I had two pineapple things (dunno what the drink was, all I know is that it had pineapple in it) before heading up to their apartment with them to continue drinking, but more cheaply. In Ibiza you can purchase a local liquor which is their version of Absynthe, having 70% alcohol (that's alot, folks). They had made such a purchase, salivating all the way. Now I had had true Absynthe in Prague, and it's not something I want to drink alot of. This stuff was much more tasty, but still carried a mighty kick with it. Kristian was all excited about a drink to be made with Absynth called a venga containing equal parts Absynth and Vodka.
Tip: Any time vodka is used as a mixer it's a bad thing.We all had three vengas, the last one being excessively strong, made by Vanessa whose excuse was that it was dark and she thought she was making it weak -- whatever. Sara passed out straight away. What I mean is that she was sitting on the chair chatting amicably and suddenly, without warning, slumped over and was carried like a rag doll to the couch (her bed). Everyone else seemed ok, but they all commented on how odd it was for Sara to react like that as it's usually her that's fine and nursing everyone else who has drunk to excess. (I've found that being ill from drinking is a common, and often laughed about occurrance among the british -- no cultural slurs intended.) I left that apartment (the one where Kristian&Hilda, Gary&Sara were staying) headed to Andrew&Vanessa's to continue on down at theirs. When I arrived, Andrew poked his head out the door and said that he had to take care of Vanessa who had become violently ill. Hmmm, ok, time for bed, 5:30am.
I found out later that Hilda had also become ill off the balcony because the sink was clogged with sick. Kristian, the trooper, was cleaning the sink when it got to him -- that would be another side of the balcony I was glad I wasn't standing under. Now, to clarify, Kristian did not have a reaction to the drinking, just to the sick he was cleaning up. I had no reaction either, and would probably have had to use the balcony in Kristian's situation. Sara finally woke up for a moment when Gary awoke in the night and, trying to find his way to the balcony, slammed his head into the sliding glass door and puked on her feet. We all blamed the vengas. (remember my tip about vodka being a mixer??) Welcome to Ibiza :o)
