Out on the island of Ibiza for a week. It goes something like this:
Thump-thump-thump
Beach-beach-beach
Thump-thump-thump
Beach-beach-beach
The weather is good. The beaches okay. The crowd all over the age charts. High heels are in abundance. The gay crowd in force, only a few in heels. Thin is in. Tan is in. MTV fashion is in. I stand out a bit, as usual. Adds some texture to the crowd, I say. Nothing like a bit of people contrast to help show off those tans.
So far the highlight has been Nick Warren at the 30th anniversary party at Pacha’s. Thump-thump-thump. Great people, good fun.
The clubs don’t fill up until 3 am and then they let out around 6 am, but if you still have stamina, you can continue onto the morning clubs from 8 am to 5 pm. We haven’t lasted that long yet, but we have caught a fine sunrise. Shops, restaurants and kiosks were closing down at 3 am last night. They seem to stay closed until about 5 pm or later. This is a night owl’s paradise. Well, for those night owls that like sleeping on the beach, that is.
It sort of has a jet lag feel to it for us. This would be a perfect party spot coming directly from the States, though. You’d be on the correct sleep schedule. Thump-thump-thump. (Sort of comes out of every shop, restaurant, bar and internet cafe in this town.) Thump-thump-thump.
