IBIZA PARTY ISLAND
weather, amazing girls, amazing amounts of alcohol, amazing nightlife.
Every summer, thousands
of young, British party animals descend upon the small but beautiful island
of Ibiza. They arrive clutching their suntan lotion, Ben Sherman shirts
and Oakley sunglasses, and head for their hotels, intent on having the
best week or so of their lives. And it usually happens.
I went to Ibiza in 1998, the Summer after I finished my A Levels, and
had the best fortnight of my life, packed with everything a young lad
could ever want from a two-week holiday amazing weather, amazing
girls, amazing amounts of alcohol, amazing nightlife. Amazing everything.
The first thing that you notice about Ibiza is that it is just like Britain.
Except for the weather, of course. The place is full of greasy spoon
cafes, full of English bars with British pool tables and most of all it
is full of Brits. The constant annoying high pitched whirring of mopeds,
the big Northern lads with their beer guts hanging with pride, the Southern
lads with their Police sunglasses and Man United football
shirts, all being harassed by the looky looky dudes. OK, so
this is a bit of a generalisation, but you can see what I am trying to
say. Ibiza is basically Britain abroad, which obviously isnt a bad
thing, considering the amount of British people that flock there each
Labelled the Clubbing Capital of the World, Ibiza has many
huge clubs, average capacities of well in advance of 6000, and the Worlds
best DJs; the place is dance music fans idea of heaven. The Clubs
are among the biggest in the World, and are full of young people dancing
like theyve never danced before, greeting each new person they meet
like an old mate they havent seen for years. The atmosphere is incredibly
friendly, everyone out to have a great time. Admittedly this may be due
to certain illegal drugs, but it sure beats drunk-fuelled fights.
Not many people actually drink in the big clubs in Ibiza, due to the price
of a bottle of lager - £7 if I can remember correctly, and those
who do tend to be not only a lot poorer than when they went in but also
asleep by 3 or 4, when the club is open until 8am. When the clubs close,
the clubbers tend to do one of three things go to another one (some
open all day), go home to sleep off the nights activities (with
or without companion!), or go to the Café Del Mar.
The Café Del Mar is situated on the beachfront, a place that looks
more like a big bar than a café. It is known, however, not for
the beer that they serve, but for having some of the most beautiful views
in the World. I would suggest that if you go to Ibiza, you cannot possibly
leave without going to the Café Del Mar, where you can sit and
watch the most beautiful sunset that you will ever see. I was told about
it by a workmate about two weeks before I went, and I initially thought
that it sounded a bit like a saga holiday addition, but I have no regrets
at all about going to see it. If a reckless youth like myself can appreciate
it, anyone can.
Ask the average parent about what goes on in Ibiza and they will tell
you about the horrendous drug problem, the promiscuous youths who plan
to have sex with as many people as possible and the lager fuelled fighting
that goes on. They will tell you exactly what they read in their middle
of the road newspaper, where you can practically guarantee that
every summer an article will appear, warning them about what their offspring
are getting up to when they attend places such as this (usually with a
case stuffy of two girls from Manchester or Liverpool who slept with fifty
men between them.) But is this all rubbish? Of course it is, its
a perfect example of newspapers creating a minor moral panic, jumping
on the bandwagon trying to create a moral campaign about the terrible
youth of today.
In the fortnight that I was in Ibiza, I never saw a fight, never saw anyone
force drugs onto someone that didnt want them, or never had them
forced onto me. People tend to think of Ibiza as Brits causing havoc abroad,
getting drunk and fighting with other holidaymakers, but it genuinely
wasnt like that when I went.
Club 18-30 do their many trips to Ibiza each summer, where they cajole
loads of young nutters to go with them to the island, and when them there
they are forced to play ridiculous games, many of them involving alcohol
and nudity, which really isnt my cup of tea. Dont get me wrong,
Im no prude, but I prefer to go away with people that I actually
WANT to go away with, not some Northern egg chaser who thinks it is amusing
to get his d**k out in front of girls, drink until he vomits all over
his Burton Loafers and sleeps in a bush, before getting back to the hotel
in the morning and telling his mates that he consummated his relationship
with Dutch twins all night.
I had the best two weeks of my 21 years so far when I went to Ibiza in
1998 and there were many reasons why; I had just finished my A Levels,
and wanted to celebrate ending school forever, also because I was with
21 of my best mates from the previous 12 years of school. It was also
because Ibiza is such a great place, with loads to do, great music and
DJs, lack of trouble and beautiful weather.
© David Wensley
Also by David' Welshy' Wensley
you go Advice
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David Welshy Wensley
Something needs to be done to stop idiots from spoiling our beautiful
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