We had stayed out all night the night before, and went straight from an Irish pub in El Born, Barcelona, home to pack our bags and do another line, hopped in a cab to Barcelona airport reeking of booze...After the excruciating airport security screening, we fumbled around for a bit. It's so bizarre to me that the gates at the airport aren't pre-assigned beforehand...While we waited for our gate number to appear on the monitor, I went outside to smoke a cig and look for more booze. Scored some screw top wine at the airport bar, a chardonnay-muscat blend and guzzled it down...
The flight from Barcelona to Ibiza was way too short, we tried to take a nap but failed miserably. Perhaps it's not the best idea in the world to snort half a gram of blow before a nap attempt. Just sayin...On board, we suckered down 2 mini bottles of prosseco and landed in Ibiza way too soon. We immediately found a taxi in the taxi cue just outside Ibiza airport and it took at least 25 minutes to get to Hostal Rosalia in Sant Antonio. When we were looking for hotel rooms, most everything was sold out in Playa d'en Bossa, so we settled for a room in Sant Antonio. We later found out that Sant Antonio was the equivalent of Spring Break/Frat Boy Central. All the UK-ers stay in Sant Antonio, all the Italians in Playa d'en Bossa.
Our dingy room cost an arm and a leg. Kiani ended up booking all 3 beds in our room so that we could have some privacy. The guy at the front desk told us we should've notified them beforehand that only 2 of us would be occupying the room?! We paid for all 3 beds, does it matter how many people are in it??? When we booked the room, the website clearly stated that free wifi was available. The alleged wifi was not public wifi, but was used for the hotel surveillance cameras. I don't remember sleeping very well in the dingy hostal, it was basically the place we stashed our bags.
I fucked up royally by booking that 6a.m. flight cuz our room wasn't ready til nearly 2p.m. We walked around and looked for a nice stretch of sand to nap on, but there was none. We saw a tiny bit of beach but it was dirty and infested with party people who were obviously up from the night before. Kiani passed the fuck out on a bench and I poked her and we relocated, back to the hotel's wooden loungechairs. There was a hotel worker who was trying to put the cushions back on the chairs, but i pretended to be asleep and ignored him. We almost got eaten alive by the flies. Ick.
At some point, we move back to the benches across the way, and just as i start to doze off, 2 policemen on motorbikes rode up and told me that sleeping on the benches was not allowed, and if i had a bikini, to put it on and go sleep on the beach. GRRRRRRRR. They make their way on over to Kiani, 3 benches down, and tell her the same thing they told me. We huff and puff our way back to the Hostal and Kiani says, 'I hate this place.'
We were sleep deprived and had no energy to do anything, dragged our asses back to the Hostal and asked if we could nap by the pool. We must've been a sight to behold, 2 fully clothed girls by the pool, with makeup on from the night before, asleep and probably snoring in the 100+ degree weather...We awoke from our nap and the room still wasn't ready!!!!!!! I chainsmoked and chatted with some Scottish girls poolside. The hostal rented out mopeds and we saw some dumb chick run her moped into the sidewalk and laughed our asses off.
The flight from Barcelona to Ibiza was way too short, we tried to take a nap but failed miserably. Perhaps it's not the best idea in the world to snort half a gram of blow before a nap attempt. Just sayin...On board, we suckered down 2 mini bottles of prosseco and landed in Ibiza way too soon. We immediately found a taxi in the taxi cue just outside Ibiza airport and it took at least 25 minutes to get to Hostal Rosalia in Sant Antonio. When we were looking for hotel rooms, most everything was sold out in Playa d'en Bossa, so we settled for a room in Sant Antonio. We later found out that Sant Antonio was the equivalent of Spring Break/Frat Boy Central. All the UK-ers stay in Sant Antonio, all the Italians in Playa d'en Bossa.
Our dingy room cost an arm and a leg. Kiani ended up booking all 3 beds in our room so that we could have some privacy. The guy at the front desk told us we should've notified them beforehand that only 2 of us would be occupying the room?! We paid for all 3 beds, does it matter how many people are in it??? When we booked the room, the website clearly stated that free wifi was available. The alleged wifi was not public wifi, but was used for the hotel surveillance cameras. I don't remember sleeping very well in the dingy hostal, it was basically the place we stashed our bags.
I fucked up royally by booking that 6a.m. flight cuz our room wasn't ready til nearly 2p.m. We walked around and looked for a nice stretch of sand to nap on, but there was none. We saw a tiny bit of beach but it was dirty and infested with party people who were obviously up from the night before. Kiani passed the fuck out on a bench and I poked her and we relocated, back to the hotel's wooden loungechairs. There was a hotel worker who was trying to put the cushions back on the chairs, but i pretended to be asleep and ignored him. We almost got eaten alive by the flies. Ick.
At some point, we move back to the benches across the way, and just as i start to doze off, 2 policemen on motorbikes rode up and told me that sleeping on the benches was not allowed, and if i had a bikini, to put it on and go sleep on the beach. GRRRRRRRR. They make their way on over to Kiani, 3 benches down, and tell her the same thing they told me. We huff and puff our way back to the Hostal and Kiani says, 'I hate this place.'
We were sleep deprived and had no energy to do anything, dragged our asses back to the Hostal and asked if we could nap by the pool. We must've been a sight to behold, 2 fully clothed girls by the pool, with makeup on from the night before, asleep and probably snoring in the 100+ degree weather...We awoke from our nap and the room still wasn't ready!!!!!!! I chainsmoked and chatted with some Scottish girls poolside. The hostal rented out mopeds and we saw some dumb chick run her moped into the sidewalk and laughed our asses off.
PACHA
As soon as our room was ready, we put our backpacks down, and slept until about 9p.m. Kiani had seen online somewhere that Erick Morillo was spinning at Pacha, so were were riled up about that. We got ready and hadn't even made it far; we found a ticket outlet that had Erick Morillo/Chuckie tickets for 47 euros. We hopped on the disco bus, the bus that drops everyone off at the clubs...the first stop was Amnesia. Next stop: Pacha. I saw Pacha from a mile away, it was illuminated by purple lights. The interior was very posh, and the special effects are spectacular, from the blasts of dry ice, to the laser light shows, to the fireworks coming out of the ceiling.
We found a roster and Erick Morillo wouldn't come on til 4a.m. so we ask the doorman if we can leave and come back. We take a left and spot a dozen delicious men. The last 2 in the trail stop and chat with us, and we end up spending the rest of the evening with them. Kiani ends up liking Neek, and I like his friend, Carlo. I assume that both boys are community property, and Neek keeps disappearing to talk on the phone. Neek takes off early, and Carlo stays with us girls til about 6a.m. He give me a peck me before he leaves...He's heading straight to the airport from the club. Both boys are Italian but live in Belgium...Kiani and I end up leaving shortly thereafter,and find a little cafe called Temptacio, where we sit down and order a multitude of pastries, each pastry better than the next. The place was a bit overpriced, but probably the only place open at 6a.m. Everything in Ibiza was overpriced...Our shithole hotel cost over $100/night, and our mini bottles of Cava at Pacha cost 20 euros a piece!!!
We found a roster and Erick Morillo wouldn't come on til 4a.m. so we ask the doorman if we can leave and come back. We take a left and spot a dozen delicious men. The last 2 in the trail stop and chat with us, and we end up spending the rest of the evening with them. Kiani ends up liking Neek, and I like his friend, Carlo. I assume that both boys are community property, and Neek keeps disappearing to talk on the phone. Neek takes off early, and Carlo stays with us girls til about 6a.m. He give me a peck me before he leaves...He's heading straight to the airport from the club. Both boys are Italian but live in Belgium...Kiani and I end up leaving shortly thereafter,and find a little cafe called Temptacio, where we sit down and order a multitude of pastries, each pastry better than the next. The place was a bit overpriced, but probably the only place open at 6a.m. Everything in Ibiza was overpriced...Our shithole hotel cost over $100/night, and our mini bottles of Cava at Pacha cost 20 euros a piece!!!
After our tummies were full, we decided to check out the beach. On our way, we came across a boy and a his shirtless friend. The shirtless friend was sitting on the ground. London boys, Jake, and the shirtless one, Ahmad. They both proclaimed their love for American girls and joined us on our beach hunt. We found a small stretch of beach in Talamanca...I think this was after Ahmad had ripped off Jakes's All Saints T-shirt and shredded it into little pieces. Jake grabbed Ahmad's button down shirt out of Ahmad's hands and threw it up into a nearby tree. The tree wasn't very tall, so Ahmad was able to retrieve it. Jake ripped the shirt out of Ahmad's hands again and threw it up into a really tall tree. Ahmad's shirt is probably still up in that tree to this very day.
Ahmad told us all we should go for a swim, and all of us tell him to jump in first. He jumps in and then gets down on all fours in the sand. We have a hard time getting a cab because Ahmad is covered in beach grime. The first cab driver we came across merely shook his head and drove away. The second cabbie, a female this time, got irritated with Ahmad's harassment. He had basically started to offer 60 euros for a ride...the third cab agreed to take us back to Sant Antonio for 60 euros, but none of the boys had any cash, so once we got to Ahmad's hostal, he had to run upstairs and grab cash. He took awhile, and i ended up paying about 30 euros, the fare on the meter.
Our cab driver looked really irritated and was starting to drive away when Ahmad comes running up, with 60 euros in hand. The disgruntled driver had already taken off. We all go up to Jake's hotel room and wake up both of his roommates, and eventually we get kicked out by a very angry hostal worker who even threatened to call the police. We go to Ahmad's hostal and wake up his two roommates and then head to their hotel pool. Around noon, Kiani and I excuse ourselves to rest up.
Ahmad told us all we should go for a swim, and all of us tell him to jump in first. He jumps in and then gets down on all fours in the sand. We have a hard time getting a cab because Ahmad is covered in beach grime. The first cab driver we came across merely shook his head and drove away. The second cabbie, a female this time, got irritated with Ahmad's harassment. He had basically started to offer 60 euros for a ride...the third cab agreed to take us back to Sant Antonio for 60 euros, but none of the boys had any cash, so once we got to Ahmad's hostal, he had to run upstairs and grab cash. He took awhile, and i ended up paying about 30 euros, the fare on the meter.
Our cab driver looked really irritated and was starting to drive away when Ahmad comes running up, with 60 euros in hand. The disgruntled driver had already taken off. We all go up to Jake's hotel room and wake up both of his roommates, and eventually we get kicked out by a very angry hostal worker who even threatened to call the police. We go to Ahmad's hostal and wake up his two roommates and then head to their hotel pool. Around noon, Kiani and I excuse ourselves to rest up.
We meet back up with Ahmad later that night, and head to Lineker's to pre-party. Trying to find a cab to Amnesia was out of control. The cue for a taxi would've taken an hour, at least, An illegal cab driver approached us, and we ended up cramming 5 people into a tiny jeep. The driver lived in Ibiza and was trying to make some extra cash. He also asked if we were interested in party supplies: Ketamine, Cocaine, etc..
AMNESIA
As soon as we get to Amnesia, we look for a secluded spot to do the drugs, but don't manage to find one, so we go inside. The club is obviously very greedy, and has over sold tickets. It was impossible to move around once we got in. We were all in one group at one point, and then it was just me and Matt. Matt held my hand and led me through the mass of people. I almost started hyperventilating at one point, it was so hot, and there was literally a mosh pit of people around me. Matt made sure I was ok the entire time. We eventually found the other 3, and danced as best we could, but we were packed in like sardines in a can. Kiani wanted Molly and Matt said he'd go look for some if I would give him a kiss. He went out looking for awhile, but came back empty handed. I kissed him anyway, and after lots of inappropriate dancing, we decided to leave the club. The taxi cue outside the club was ridiculous (surprise!) but we found another illegal cab driver. He didn't seem to know where he was going and I thought he was going to chop us into little pieces.
When we finally got to the vicinity of my hotel, I discovered that it was my mistake. I had told the driver Sant Antonio Bay, but my hostal was actually in The West End. Oops. The receptionist would not let Matt come up to my hotel room because he wasn't a registered guest. Matt finally ended up paying 20 euros to spend the night. We woke to Kiani and Ahmad staring down at us like specimens under a microscope...We hadn't locked the door and they had walked right in! Matt and Ahmad left and I thought I would never see Matt again, as Kiani and I were Paris-bound later in the day. Ahmad texted Kiani that Matt wanted to see me again and they came to get us at La Cantina, where we were eating mediocre Thai food. Matt and I hung out one last time...I texted him the day after Kiani and I landed in Paris, but he never responded. He could've given me a wrong number, for all I knw. I'll never know. I found out from Ahmad that Matt's knee had swollen up and he was in the hospital in Ibiza. Haven't heard from him since...
2 days in Ibiza was more than enough and we were definitely partied the fuck out...
When we finally got to the vicinity of my hotel, I discovered that it was my mistake. I had told the driver Sant Antonio Bay, but my hostal was actually in The West End. Oops. The receptionist would not let Matt come up to my hotel room because he wasn't a registered guest. Matt finally ended up paying 20 euros to spend the night. We woke to Kiani and Ahmad staring down at us like specimens under a microscope...We hadn't locked the door and they had walked right in! Matt and Ahmad left and I thought I would never see Matt again, as Kiani and I were Paris-bound later in the day. Ahmad texted Kiani that Matt wanted to see me again and they came to get us at La Cantina, where we were eating mediocre Thai food. Matt and I hung out one last time...I texted him the day after Kiani and I landed in Paris, but he never responded. He could've given me a wrong number, for all I knw. I'll never know. I found out from Ahmad that Matt's knee had swollen up and he was in the hospital in Ibiza. Haven't heard from him since...
2 days in Ibiza was more than enough and we were definitely partied the fuck out...
Ibiza Airport
Pacha
Amnesia
Sant Antonio
Our tix
