Ibiza Memories part 1

[Guest saleen351]

Originally posted by shroomy

So many experiences, where to begin?

Lets start with why would anyone want to go to Ibiza?

The answer seems obvious doesn’t it? The music, the clubs, the drugs

But it isn’t so obvious. If that were the only reason Ibiza would come and go and be a flash in the pan like Ft. Lauderdale for spring break. But Ibiza has endured for decades. I never really realized it my first time there, but it is simply the celebration of life that makes Ibiza so special.

Sure there are the bottle chuckers (drunken brits) whose idea of a good time is a $40 dollar all you can drink pub in San Antonio.

The raver kids who’s idea of a good time is dropping enough pills to not sleep for a week and going from Amnesia to Space to Borra Borra until the next club is open, and do it all over again.

The eurotrash and eurotrash wanna bes whos idea of a good time is doing lines of coke off of the breasts of naked models who will take off everything except their Gucci sunglasses (even when they are fucking)

The hippies, whose idea of a good time is sitting in their hotel room and smoking a big spliff before attacking a kilo of Jamon Serrano.

But underneath it all are the locals and the regulars. The workers, the year round residents, the gypsies and the expatriates who get more out of each day than the rest of the people get out of their lives. Somehow they are all born, or end up in Ibiza. And best of all, if you are respectful, they will share their life with you.

On Thursday morning at 10 O’clock after the Monday night foam party we emerged from the club dripping wet and unable to get a cab, so we hang out in the parking lot watching the sun get higher over the hills and sitting around a fire with a bunch of the locals. After talking a little in French, Spanish, and English a beautiful raven haired gypsy looking woman asks how long we are hanging around. I tell her until we dry off and can get a cab. She immediately says she will give us a ride for 10 euros but we have to go now so she can get to the bakery for the croissants for everyone. (we had offered a taxi 50 euros to no avail) we tell her we will give here 30, but she says no 10 is more than fair. On the way out a couple of young Spanish guys (we all just meet) give here a spliff for the road. She says thanks, I love how friendly the Spanish are and gives them the rest of a bottle of water for it. Half way back to the city, we see a flock of geese flying in formation. She immediately pulls over and we all get out of the car passing around the spliff. “Au Revoir birdies, have a wonderful trip, I wish I could fly with you.” She says in her French accent. We finish the spliff on the way back as we talk of her love for her two children and how she moved here 7 years ago because it was the right thing to do. She points out all the good bakeries and restaurants on the way back and gives us two passes to get into Amnesia for free. BTW the music was great right up until the foam at 8 AM when they brought in some kook to spin 80’s retro ala DJ Sharon. He started with YMCA. And I wish I was fucking kidding. Thank god the terrace was going off, but I kept feeling bad for getting people wet. (btw the terrace is now unfortunately covered due to noise pollution laws, yep even the terrace at space, only the Pacha terrace is uncovered now)

On Thursday Night we made the mistake of going to El Divino. Before we finally cut our losses and head over to Pacha, we made good friends with our very sexy waitress who had grown up in Czechoslovakia .

“God, I hate the fucking Italians. Thursdays suck. Its always, hey baby, lets fuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck…..”

“I shouldn’t even give them my number”

Shroomy – “Why not give them a fake number?”

“it’s a cell phone, it doesn’t cost anything. I just say: hello? And usually I just say I have to work, goodbye. But if I don’t have anything going on, and feel like a nice dinner, I pick a place, say thank you and then go out with my friends or one of my lovers. I tell them its just dinner, but of course they all think that they are the one.”

Shroomy – “Lovers?“

“Yeah, I live with two men. That’s what I love about Ibiza, you can love men, women, all of life and it is excepted and accepted.”

Shroomy – “So you live with two lovers?”

“Yeah, but don’t get me wrong, I never sleep with both of them at the same time.”

Shroomy – “Why not?”

“I wouldn’t want them to get jealous. But Issac is getting a little crazy anyway.”

S – “How so?”

“I tell him – You stay up for two weeks all full of coca, and you expect sex to be great!? Now you leave for a week and expect me not to have fun when you haven’t been able to get it up for a week.”

S- “How about the other guy?”

“Oh, he’s Spanish.” (I guess that explained it all)

S- “So why do you work here if you don’t like the Italians?”

“Oh they pay me well since I speak German, Spanish, English and Chech, and its only an Itialian crowd on Fridays. Plus we don’t get too many British here.”

And on and on. I swear she stayed and talked to us at least 20 minutes out of every 30. And after the first two rounds, she stopped charging us for the drinks. (at least $100 worth at Ibiza prices)

On Monday night we went to Manumission at Privilage. A fun show, but not much of a dance club. Until 6 AM that is, when a DJ in the Coco Loco room (I just have to find out his name) dropped the set of the week. You could see the energy in the air. There was a drum circle of about 15 drummers with congas, bongos, and 5 or six other types of drums. The star was this 40ish American Indian looking guy (but he def wasn’t American) who was just insane. You couldn’t see his hands move except for a blur for 25 minutes. He left the young kids in the dust. The music was beyond exciting as our soon to be friend Alister jumps up on the stage. Alister is somewhere between 40 and 60 and looks like a tall skinny Andy Warhol with a goatee. Both his mushroom haircut and goatee were dyed blond. He is at least 6’ 3” and about 160lbs. He has been living in Ibiza for 24 years and runs the dancers at various clubs on various nights. And if fierceness is always welcome, he would be the most popular man in the world. And could he move! After a discussion about hair with Annette (and the compliment that made her week – “Honey… anyone can buy some hair, buy you have style”) we danced until around 10 then headed off to Space and then to out to the Beach at Borra Borra. We promised that we would see him at The Mao Room” a small restaurant/disco/lounge in Ibiza Town the day after next where he is the promoter/host for the evening. It was there that we found out that he woke up on Wed morning in his car in San Antonio at 10 AM. (“…and I don’t know what the hell I was doing there, I haven’t been there 4 times in 24 years!”) We had met him Monday night and he had partied the whole night and next day. Of course since he was the host, all his friends came for drinks. The dancers, performers, freaks, bartenders, the massage guy from Amnesia, the gymnasts from Manumission, the place was a freak show with everyone just lying around, drinking and dancing to tracks like “It Just Wont Do” by Tim Deluxe, “Definition of House” by Minimal Funk and “That Latin Track” by DJ Vitamin D. “Jungle Mirror” etc… A great way to start the night until we decided to go to El Divino where we meet the most interesting waitress……

More to come….

-Shroomy

can you post the cliff notes version of this? i'm too tired to read it all the way threw.

thanks..