Okay, you can only go out 5 nights and see sunrise on 4 of them until you wear out. Well, that’s getting old for you.
We both had our fill of thump-thump-thump by the time we left. The fill included a good night at Space, a dreary leave early (3 am) evening at the overly bright and gaudy Es Paradisio (very unclubby), a second visit to Pachas (this time Darren Emerson thumped), and finally a loud evening at Priviledge’s Manumission Show complete with jewel theft theatrics, trapeze, 50 show girls, and fire (their claim to fame, World’s Largest Club… and it did look big including a swimming pool in the center).
Somehow at the end of all this you sort of start dreaming thump-thump-thump and you know deep in your musical soul that it is definitely time to clear off the island. Derrell figured that he probably would be ready for more beats at some point and scoured the shops for a good set of CDs.
Ibiza does rotate your sleep hours around. We suffered greatly while trying to wake up at 10 am to get to the airport. It felt like the middle of the night. We had another ‘mistake of the trip’ in this dazed state. Looking slightly crankily at the Air Europa check-in counter, we were informed that our tickets were for the next afternoon, not today. Bah! Over to the Air Europa ticket office.. and for the wonderful change fee and seat availability difference cost (which equaled the same original price of the tickets), the disgustingly cheerful girl was glad to inform us that we were really very lucky (smile, smile) and we could pay the fees and take the flight. With the Spanish efficiency in full swing, we headed back over to the check-in counter which was now closed and stood there for 15 minutes while the check-in clerk chatted on the phone about how to process our tickets. We were suprised they held the plane for us. The poor saps who arrived late at the exact same time in that closed counter as we did (and looking much worse for wear) didn’t make it on the plane. Spain moves at its own pace.
