alex311279
Active Member
So another holiday in Ibiza has drawn to an end and it’s a chance for me to describe both what we got up to and look at a few aspects of holidaying in the island with advice in mind and with a slightly critical eye. It is my aim to try and describe and discuss things as they happened and as I see them, you may not agree, may not have done things the same or in deed some things may not even have been a great deal of bother to me but might need describing to paint the full picture… this means this is going to be long. Hopefully the little essays won’t detract from the narrative of my holiday.
Nine Thirty PM on the 6th of August arrives and after nearly a year of waiting and we find ourselves heading towards Manchester Airport for our 12am flight to the White Isle. After a quick check-in we find ourselves with a 30 minute delay and extra time to explore the delights of Manchester’s terminal 2. After a quick couple of scoops in the terminals only bar and a sunglasses fashion parade in the duty free shop (an excellent opportunity to try on the latest Burberry check shaded) we head over to our gate where boarding has started. A smooth take off, a sprightly 1hr 50 minute flight later and we touch down in Ibiza. Our cases roll off within the first few, shock horror we’re the first out of the doors.
We are booked with Twenty’s, and don’t plan on doing anything with them except for travelling back to the airport with them, but as a courtesy to let them know we have arrived I head over to our rep and tell him we intend of getting a taxi to the hotel. The rep tells me he’ll wake me up at 10am for the welcome meeting, I tell him not to bother and that’s the last time we speak. This suits me in a way as I am not interested in any of the excursions, clubs but a hello when we passed in the hotel might have been nice.
We get a taxi to the hotel in San Antonio which costs about 25€ for us and our 2 cases and the next day we find our decision to get a cab saved us several hours after the time taken for the rest of the crowd to get their cases, find the rep and coaches and get dropped off.
The Hotel Bahia
Great location if San An is your bag, and not bad even if it isn’t. Its location means you are 10 minutes very slow stroll to Bar M and Itaca, another 10 from the hustle and bustle of San An. It also means you can avoid the traffic of the town whist being close to roads leading to Ibiza, PDB and the south of the island. The location on the promenade means that there is no real noise from passers by or traffic. The position offers great views of the bay and sunset for some rooms. We were lucky enough to get one which did add to our experience of the hotel.
The Bahia is listed as a 4* hotel, which it probably was once upon a time. It isn’t now. The once ministry of sound hotel is now to my knowledge available in 2 package brochures, first choice summer sun and twenty’s, which means you get a mixture of families and single sex groups. The dividing walls are ply wood and so loud music is a nightmare and in fact so can quite loud talking in adjacent rooms.
The hotel boasts a sauna and gym, neither of which are functioning, both rooms are now used as storage areas.
The impression over all I got from the hotel was that it was a 4* hotel in decline, an example of which I think you can see in the cleaning service. Like a quality hotel the cleaners will not disturb you if asked and the handbooks stated they will return later that day or the next. During the last week we never saw any cleaning and only had the do not disturb on 3 of those days until about 3pm. But to the hotels credit they have an excellent set of reception staff that will be pleased to sort out your problems, are very friendly and extremely approachable. There are also signs of the hotel heading into slight disrepair, light bulbs not working, washing lines that fall out of the wall, fitting and furnishings missing, broken sun loungers etc.
All the rooms have air-con, its good but subtle… it won’t make an instant impact on the temp, or in fact have a noticeable effect during the day, but it will make you freeze your bollocks off during the night, so sleeping is not a hot sweaty nightmare.
The pool area is nice, but being Twentys can get a bit leery. There is also a 24hr bar service which serves standard bar type snack food.
Every room has a safe deposit box which cost us a total of 50€ for the 2 weeks. The kitchenette area of the room is tiny and although I never cook in the room I can imagine it would be a nightmare to do so as the rooms are quite small and the heat would become unbearable.
I don’t think I would stay at the Bahia again mainly due to late night noise within the hotel with it being Twenty’s, late night shouting, music and door banging. In future we will be looking for family hotels as they’re just more in keeping with what we’re after. The 2nd week actually saw a shift toward more families and for us it was a much nicer atmosphere. I can’t imagine how impossible sleeping was when the MoS ran the gaff and had MP3 players in every room!!!! I also don’t think it is the right hotel for anyone excepting a true representation of a 4* hotel or maybe what you’d expect from a 4* hotel in the UK. Most of the population of the hotel where with Twenty’s and had paid more for the Bahia than standard Twenty’s hotel and I think they got great value for money; slightly better accommodation that usual, a nice pool and lots of like minded individuals.
day 1 Picking up the car, El Patio, Rias Baixes, Sundays at Space[/u]
So, we’re finally in our room and Michelle comes out with “I’ve brought the wrong key”
“For what?”
“My case.”
She’d brought the wrong little key for the lock on her case. Her dream case. The pink case she wanted a year or so a go but never got, the case which she bought during the winter and has longingly wished was time to pack for holidays. The case I was about to kill. After 20 minutes of hot struggling with the lock and breaking out in a serious sweat I grab a kitchen knife and stab the zip, ruining her brand new case. Never mind though Michelle being Michelle and conveniently for me, a girl, it means that she has already seen a new case, a new case of her dreams, a case she longs to buy etc etc etc.
After unpacking its getting late, well rather it’s getting early on Sunday and we decide best thing is to get some sleep. The second the lights go off, we experience our paper-like walls for the first time. A football teams worth of scousers return to one of their rooms after a hard nights raving and decide to carry the night on in a way the pleasure rooms would be proud of (a local joke for local people) and put on a cd of the finest scouse house at full volumes. Banging.
I don’t know if I slept that night, it was light when the music stopped and even lighter when I opened my eyes after rolling over felling slightly refreshed it was time to soldier on.
car hire, rent-a-car, CARJET, centauro
The first morning is glorious and we prepare to pick up our car for the 2 weeks. Shitty flight times meant we had to get it the day later as the office was shut, so it’s in a taxi and back to Ibiza airport.
I’d booked our car for 13 days back in January using carjet.com after having a trouble free experience with them in 2004, which I might add included some very good efficient customer service. I have had a slightly different experience this year.
2 weeks before we went I thought it might actually better if we had access to the car for the last day, so tried to contact carjet to try to add an extra day. I emailed and within hours had a reply saying adding the extra day would be fine, just phone up to make the payment. The number just would not connect, the automated service for each option ended in the call being terminated. I emailed them to ask them to call me and received a reply saying a call back was not possible try the number again. I did. I noticed a new option “enter an extension now.” I email asking for an extension. Reply – not possible, if I want to make a payment (for a value I don’t know) just email them my details or write the card details down on a fax. I reply stressing neither of these is secure enough and asking for this to be escalated to a supervisor that can call back. For the first time I receive a reply that is more the just one line, so I assume a supervisor of some kind, and this tells me that in the time taken to complete this change the supplier has become fully booked, but to phone them from the resort. Did they not read this, the numbers don’t work!!!!!!!!!
Anyway it was only for an extra day, no probs we can live without it and I should have booked it properly from the start, at least it was reasonably cheap and I had the bonus of fully comp insurance with no excess with all these crazy continental drivers about!!! Oh hang on, no I don’t.
I am stood at the centauro desk and the guy is telling me in broken English that I have to agree to pay a 180€ excess or I can’t have the car. In the end I agree thinking that there’s no way I will damage it. Seven days later and the way its heading I am looking at returning a crushed cube to the company, though I do fully admit the most serious knock was sort of my fault, but every time I return to the car after parking it there is either a new scratch or dent or some idiots has totally blocked me in or left me etc etc.
So when I returned the car the guy tells me I have lost the excess, even though I protest… hang on I haven’t paid the excess yet… oh dear… I knew I had agreed to pay it, but thought I’d argue it out if anything did happen, thinking that centauro would have a number that did work if they had to get some money. Well it turn out when I picked it up and said I would pay the fuel money (fully expecting to do this) the guy typed in 221€ not just 41€, and I signed without checking. Shit happens, so now I am faced with trying to contact the faceless corporation that is carjet.
All that said getting a car makes the holiday for me just don’t make the same idiotic mistakes!!! Back to the rest of the day….
After a shaky drive back to the hotel we park up and decide to go for a stroll around San An. We look around San An and decide to go for a jug of sangria. We decide upon a restaurant called El Patio which is one of those by the musical fountains, these restaurants don’t really appeal to me for a meal of a night time as these seem to much like spag-bol-for-the-English types to me but the sangria was really nice, really fruity with a nice kick added by some brandy. The location was good for people watching and the waiter proved to be a willing first victim of my latest attempt to master the Spanish language. A huge free hierbas later and off we go to source some tickets for We Love Sundays at Space.
Buying club tickets
I know WLS tickets never vary in price but this year I found it really difficult to find any variation in price. All the bars and shops seemed to be the same price, maybe I need to look harder, but anyway for the record orange corner, bar m, Itaca all seemed to have the same price as our hotel and these seemed to be the cheapest or rather equally as cheap as anywhere else we saw.
This year a few times workers were offered us flyers saying they worked out cheaper than tickets which for WLS I found hard to believe and the same for Viva. I’d much rather have a ticket anyway, and was apprehensive about this advice although I know a flyer does work best for getting to Carl Cox early.
Tickets acquired we paddle our back towards the hotel, planning to have a siesta, go to a restaurant then heading to space for midnight. Just as our heads touch the pillows, our neighbours turn up and up on a scouse house remix of…. Name escapes me atm….. On repeat for 90 minutes. Cool.
Siesta over we get ready to go out, I nip over to the cash point and notice a rather spotty young man, walking with great purpose along the road in all his splendour, freshly ironed Ben Sherman, sharply creased trousers and nicely polished shoes, the image stuck in my mind, it only being 8:30 and still roasting hot. Back in the room we decide on going for Tapas at El Rincon de Pepe. On reaching the bar we find it full to bursting and decide to arrive without reservation at Rias Biaxes.
Rias Biaxes
We ate here last year and it was superb, but Shell had sunstroke and didn’t want to eat her meal. She had been looking forward to having the same dish since last year and I had been looking forward to the same since I had tried a bit of what she’d left. The restaurant was almost empty when we arrived and they happily accommodated us and within an hour the terrace where we were sat was full as was most of the inside, so I’d advice getting a booking to eat here.
For starters I had Fishcake which was a slice of a layered fish terrine, Shell had the seared scallops. For mains we both had the monkfish medallions with prawns and a crab sauce. The food was superb, the setting is high class in the middle of San An and the service was good. For the two courses with a ½ bottle of wine the bill came to 72€.
If you don’t like seafood, do not head here, if you do, it’s a must. Will definitely be going back next year.
Space
At 11:30 we walked back towards the hotel to get ready for the club and who should be walking back home absolutely trashed but our spotty friend from 3 hours earlier. Oh dear.
We arrived at Space at around midnight, and swiftly entered the club. Groove Armada were rocking the new terrace which was full to bursting, the sunset terrace was going off as well. The new terrace is a definite improvement IMO, it really is a top class club room, from the lighting to décor, I love it. But the main attraction for me this night was DJ Sneak.
We saw brief glimpses of Groove Armada as we waited for Sneak, they were knocking out the anthems, the atomic hooligan mix of Born slippy being one we caught. Sneak started 30 minutes early to an almost empty discotecha room, playing an hours worth of techy filtered house, before moving on to some pretty tough but always funky techno. Techno is definitely the music I think suits the inside of space best, I can’t think of anything better. The last hour saw sneak head back to his trademark jackin’ house style
Following sneak was Felix the Housecat, accompanied by Puff Daddy. I was certain he was there but every time I pointed him out to Shell a different guy dressed near enough the same had moved to where I was pointing.
Felix the mousemat played his standard set, one I must admit I loved 18 months ago, but with hardly any new additions, that said is was a pretty fun set and I did enjoy it. He did play the Holden mix of ‘the sky was pink’ which I have been dying to hear in a club and it didn’t disappoint, the bass is a proper club destroyer, I thought my head was going to explode. He followed this with a remix of ‘watching cars go by’ that must have been about 10 minutes long. During his set the artist formerly known as cheesy poof daddy was getting steadily leerier. At one point he showed the crowd just how hard he was by standing by the decks, his back to the crowd he necked half a bottle of JD in one go .Solid Puff. The majority of the Italian crowd got boners at this move. I was actually more impressed by the fact that puff and all his homo’s had big heavy coats on, zipped up, and baseball caps on in a club which was scorching hot.
A dub of “I’ll Jack You” was put on and combesy started doing the vocals live which credit where it’s due sounded really good, but alas diddly widdly was wasted and spoilt it by kicking the mixer or standing on something and making the music go off. Then he tried to say stuff over other tunes, Felix started looping beats so he could do it, every tune started to take 10-15 minutes and it was time to leave for us.
day 2 Monday – Cala Bassa, Bar M, Santa Eularia, Ca Na Ribes
We woke up at about 2pm after Space. We got ready, spread the map out on the table and looked for a beach. After 5 minutes of indecision we gave up, headed to the car and drove off. We picked a random brown beach direction sign and headed toward it. It was one close to San An Bay and pretty grim, desolated, rocky and just plain crap, we stayed in the car and headed off again this time following the signs towards Cala Bassa.
Cala Bassa is a really nice beach, very popular, very full, mainly with Italians and Spanish, lots of water sports and some rocks for cliff jumping. The rocks which climb out of the beach making the cove that cala bassa is situated in make cliff of about 20ft, the volcanic rock is quite dramatic to walk over with shafts plummeting away to the sea littering the surface. The sand at the beach is golden and not rocky at all and accompanied by very clear turquoise water.
We left the beach at about 7pm and headed back to the Bahia. After a quick shower we headed off to Bar M for some Sangria, more alcoholic laden cocktail that refreshing drink but nice all the same. The bar man turned out to live by me and play for a rugby team I used to, he plied us with several free chupitos and it was hard to move away before getting totally trollied, but eventually we did and walked back to the hotel for a quick siesta ready for the evening.
We didn’t plan on doing much except for going to Santa Eularia. We Arrived there at about 10pm and made our way to the streets of restaurants, deciding upon eating at Ca Na Ribes, it having been our favourite of a few we visited last year. We ate inside on this visit which afford the diner views of the terrace and out onto the street.
The food here is very rustic and very very tasty, the service is excellent, and the setting is very lovely. I had the peppers stuffed with tuna and cheese in tomato sauce followed by the herb crusted roast lamb. The lamb is delicious, tender, and very flavoursome, rosemary and thyme being the predominant flavours in the herb crust with sweetness added by cherry tomatoes. The portion was huge and I struggled to finish it, but it was too nice to leave.
Michelle had mussels in a cream sauce for started and cod au gratin for main. The portion of cod was huge, a whole lateral slice of a big fish, which would have easily made 2 very large cod steaks.
For desserts we both had ice creams, anything more substantial and I think the friendly staff would have been less pleased with having to clear up the remains of two burst tourists. Instead the meal ended with a very large free hierbas and a chupito of schnapps for Shell.
The meal, 3 courses, with sangria and a couple of beers cost 76€.
We worked off some of the meal with a stroll around the promenade of Santa Eularia before calling it a night and heading for our beds.
Day 3 Tuesday – Portinax, Itaca, Sa Capella, Ibiza town
Another glorious day awaits us when we wake around midday. Another scan of the map and we decide to head as north as possible to Portinax. The beach is nice, sheltered in a cove lined with all-inclusive hotels which seem to cater mainly for British families the streets are lined with your standard little holiday restaurants offering pizzas, burgers etc and we chose one to have some bocadillos and drinks before hitting the beach. The beach was full of Brits which isn’t ideal for me, nothing against Brits but when I am relaxing I cant help but listen to what’s being said around me, which distracts me for the task in hand, impossible when I don’t understand a word. Anyway the lie story of a 30 something welsh divorcee dad, who has recently split up with his girlfriend, and likes meatloaf and adventure sports is broken up by periods of swimming, playing bat and ball with Michelle – top rally 4 at this point- and snorkelling. Being underwater loads gave me an earache so we leave at around 6.
Back at the hotel the really helpful reception call and make a reservation at Sa Capella for us whilst we get ready to stroll the prom in search of sangria again. That evening we spend a few hours at Itaca sipping at their Sangria and watching the people walking past.
Sa Capella
The only table available at Sa Capella is for 9pm, which we are late for because I just cannot find it!!!! I could see it on my AA map new we where close but couldn’t for the life of me see it. Eventually we see the little sign and pull of the main road toward the restaurant. There isn’t much parking space and we pull up onto a little embankment of rough ground adjacent to the restaurant.
Sa Capella is definitely up there with the more beautiful restaurants on the island; set in an old chapel it certain had a dramatic air about it. For starters we have a carpachio of tuna marinated in vinaigrette and a tuna pasta dish both of which are presented excellently and taste divine. For mains shell sticks with the seafood and has fillets of sole stuffed with king prawns, served with a lemon sauce which tastes amazing, but surpassed by my rack of lamb and raspberry coulis. The desserts are out of this world, tiramisu for me and a chocolate and mint slice for Michelle top the meal off, that is until the waiter brings us another dessert which is free and a large hierbas. The total cost of this meal including a ½ bottle of wine and water is 96€.
We will definitely be visiting there again, it was probably the only restaurant we visited where 99% of the menu appealed, but we will be careful where we park!!!
Outside the restaurant we are parked on this little embankment like many other people are and obviously have in the past, which is fine. That is until some idiot parks on the only way of this little knoll. The rest of the embankment, though only 2 ft high is uncomfortable steep to be driving of without risk of grounding the car. After 10 minutes of manoeuvring I finally get the car on the road but not without one big clunk from underneath. Something to consider for any novice drivers, and something we saw time and time again, before you park consider how you will get out, and not just how you will get out, plan all eventualities because if a hint of a space is left a car will be put into it, regardless of angle, space or you!!!!
Ibiza town at night
I am not really fussed on going to see Digweed at space and no other nights really appeal so we decide to have another quiet night. The early table at Sa Capella means the night is still young and so we decide to head over to Ibiza town.
The bus from San Antonio to Ibiza is every 30 minutes and costs 1.25€ each, bargain!!! But get your continental head on at the queue or you will miss the bus and then the next one etc etc.
We arrive in Ibiza town at about 11:30 and go straight into D’alt Villa to get a booking for the next night. We reserve a table at La Oliva and peruse the other menus on other in the square for future bookings. Our task done we explore the streets and shops of Ibiza town before heading to the marina for drinks. I am curious to see what the reputed base and rock bars have to offer and I am not surprised when the answer is a resounding nothing.
We get a table at the rock bar after 5 minutes of being ignored I make my way inside. For want of a better description it is a small hovel, lined with ancient pictures of famous people. On a quest to sample the whole islands take on sangria; a jug is ordered and I watch it get prepared…. Fill one jug to the top with ice, leaving little to no space for liquid. Fill half of your remaining space with sangria from a carton, “hang on… doesn’t carton sangria only cost 1€… this is going to be a cheap drink at a bar known for being expensive” add to this a splash of cheap schnapps, top up with half a bottle of fanta limon. The cost; a cool 25€. I must admit, even though I watched it being made and knew the cost, I didn’t hand the cash over, with a small inward smile that this would be my one and only transaction and the rock bar and that people that big up this bar are definitely pretty stupid. But for one night I was happy to be stupid and sat people watching yet again as the preened and beautiful people strutted their stuff back and forth. The jug of sangria did last an hour or so, so ever so slightly makes its value better. Cheaper drinks at much better bars with much more vibrant atmospheres can be found just a street away and this is where we will be heading in future.
When the sangria had finally ran out we made a move to the harbour to look at the yachts and take some pics. These dudes have serious money. I love the way they leave the back of the boats open, as is its not enough that they have a yacht that’s bigger than my house they leave it open to show that they’re carrying 3 jet skis, several mountain bikes and a couple of small motor boats. You’re loaded, we get it.
Tired of making plans about how I’ll have a boat like that within 10 years we call it a night but feeling peckish we call into MacDonald’s where I try out some more Spanish which seems to turn the young girl behind the counter on hard, which is the exact opposite effect to the girl behind the bar in Pacha who laughed at me when I spoke in Spanish.
I must admit, I am pretty much anti-fast food whilst on holiday, in respect that somewhere like Ibiza has a plethora of excellent restaurants and they add to any holiday as much as any clubbing or bar experience. But for something to fill you up and to do it fast I must admit I am Ok with popping into a fast food place. The way I look at it is that the food is processed but then so is a frozen pizza or frozen spag bol, you do get more for your money and you are guaranteed to be eating within 5 minutes.
Stuffed to bursting point we called it a night and headed off to the taxi rank. I love queuing for taxis in Ibiza Town, not that I actually like the queuing I just love seeing continental types at work and all of the unwritten rules of engagement that take place.
The first rule of queuing; don’t actually queue. Just walk to the front of the queue, staying silent while 50 glaring eyes dare you to try and get in that next cab.
The second rule of queuing; don’t actually queue II. If you are at the back of the queue, or indeed the middle of the queue, pretend the queue doesn’t exist and try flagging down a cab that is heading to the front.
The third rule of queuing; don’t actually queue III. Always try to walk past the person in front of you or alternatively, use your superior intellect to outsmart the queuing masses… leave the queue, walk 20 yards away the queue and try out some of number 2. Don’t worry the whole queue hasn’t seen you do this, doesn’t want you to trip over into on coming traffic and die and secondly this will definitely fool the driver of the oncoming empty cab. When this doesn’t work return to the queue but several places in front of where you were.
The fourth rule of queuing; should anyone else try any of the first 3 rules, scream at them.
After a short wait and a quick ride home we found our beds and drifted off to the pumping beat of scouse house.
day 4 Wednesday – water park, La Oliva, Pacha
The sky was full of clouds when we arose at around midday. Not looking good for a beach and not wanting to lose a day we decided upon visiting the water park. It costs 15€ to get in and is a fair way to spend a few hours. It’s certainly not the best water park I have ever visited but it does the job. Michelle isn’t a fan of going underwater so limited herself to the black hole which you go down in a rubber ring. This left me to test my nerve on the other slides, but also to test my speed and skill against total randoms on the other competitive slide. Two convincing wins on the “foam” later versus a difficult bunch of 11 year olds and a family with a toddler and I was feeling on top of my game. A couple of wins and a narrow second on the super toboggan after a bad start and I crowned myself king of the water park. Job done we left Playa den Bossa in a blaze of glory just as the rain started to fall, washing away the misery of the remaining losers.
Back at the hotel we decided to get in a good siesta ready for Pacha but as if by magic our Merseyside dwelling neighbours decided it was time to get the block rocking to some scouse cheese flavoured pumping beats. The bastards. Another 90 minutes solid of rhythm is a dancer and I can just picture these lads doing that scouse lads dance wearing nothing but some combat shorts and suede low slung loafers sporting their Steven Gerrard haircuts and uber tans. Eventually they turn the music off, I get so sleep and all is well in room 216.
We’ve got a 22:30 booking at La Oliva, we get there slightly early and use that time to make a booking for Thursday in La Torreta.
La Oliva
This was the first restaurant experience we had in D’alt Villa last year. The setting is romantic on the outside tables and quite quaint and rustic inside. The food was top class again though slightly let down by the service. The guys there seem to be zooming around at full speed all the time, they were the same last year. This meant that it was hard to get their attention, there was a delay between getting their attention and actually speaking to them and although this isn’t a major gripe it did slightly detract from the meal as there is a point where is goes past being relaxed to slightly irritating. Back to the food which is always the main thing for me, its well good, tastes great and is relatively cheap. For starters we had tiny cut ravioli of basil in a cheese sauce and mussels au gratin. For mains we both opted for the lamb chops in peppercorn sauce and chocolate mousse for dessert. The lamb was cooked to perfection, pink and well rested so that the meat was firm and juicy throughout and has lost the overly raw appearance that Michelle doesn’t like. We washed this down with a bottle of Can Rich, finally I wasn’t driving so could have a full bottle. The full meal including drinks set up back around 75€.
Subliminal @ Pacha
We got to Pacha about 12:30 to find an almost empty club, which I didn’t really mind as this was only my second visit to Pacha and provided opportunity to explore.
The club was filling steadily and the Dj warming up was doing a fine job, even whipping out a trumpet to play along with Calabria. A funny, surreal, great moment.
Having just eaten 3 course and drank the majority of a bottle of wine the violent contortions of my attempts to dance where having undesired effects. I am stood on the balcony looking at the filling club when I just throw up. Classy. Feeling totally fine, totally sober but shocked I look up to see that one of the 10 people that are on the balcony has seen me, looking over in disgust. Gutted. At least it never went over onto the ravers below. This horrid little episode over, I am feeling great and in full rave mode.
Jose Nunez followed on, much better than when I last saw him, playing Morillo fave “sweat dreams” and God put a smile on my face. Morillo came on and does what he does, rocked Pacha until 6am at which point he, Nunez and Jason Ojeda went back to back, we left at 7:30 while the club was still rocking.
day 4 Thursday – Pool, La Torreta, Viva @ Space
Finding it increasingly hard to recover from nights out, it wasn’t until 3pm that we awoke. Feeling incredibly tender and tired we opted for a lazy day by the pool. Sheer mentalness from the mad-heads that reside by the pool. At this point the hotel is overrun by scousers or maybe just those that camp by the pool are but it seems maybe 70% of the people in the hotel are from Merseyside, us included.
Some quality r&r time by the pool left me raring and ready to go. Listening to some quality house and having sank a few JD’s I was pretty excited about going to Steve Lawler’s new venture.
La Torreta
Before space was the small task of another 3 course meal in D’alt Villa at La Torreta. Much preferred this meal over its neighbour. The food was actually probably of the same standard maybe slightly higher, but we have a much nicer table outside in the square and the service was much more efficient.
For starters we both went for the grilled prawns in vinaigrette, the sweet and sour flavours in the vinaigrette perfectly balancing the char grilled flavour of the prawns. For mains I had pork fillet in red wine sauce whilst Michelle had Bream fillets stuffed with sage and wrapped in ham. We shared a dessert of chocolate sponge with red fruits, which was very rich and totally finished us off. This meal cost 70€.
Viva @ Space
This was musically the night I was looking forward to most. Lawler, Sasha and Josh Wink headlining. But this night was going against a huge one at Amnesia – a cream birthday line up of huge proportions. This didn’t put me off the thought of having an almost private set off 2 of my fave DJs was definitely appealing.
We got there about 1:30 to a pretty baron club. La Discotecha shut, though I am sure on the flyers it advertised Sasha and Porter here? Pete Gooding boring the arse of 20 people on the sunset terrace and Josh Wink playing to a ½ full terrace. This didn’t put me off at all as it meat all the dj’s I was after would be on in the same room, so no clashing.
Josh Wink was awesome expertly mixing some nasty acid house, he played til about 2am and was followed by Sasha. I was looking forward to Sasha most of all, but what a let down.
Sasha bored the pants off me. His music was dull, obvious riffy house and his mixing was all over the place. Not to say his actually mixing wasn’t excellent at time or good through out, but his abuse of the maven controller became irritating. On occasion he built loops well and the terrace went off, but I found that he was doing it too much, it became predictable and often done to parts of tracks that didn’t take off. Granted some of his mixing was sheer class but the abuse of that loop trigger thing on the ableton just killed it for me. Sasha only played for 1hr 45 and by the end of his set I was ready to leave. Steve Lawler took it up a notch but the night was over for me. The club never got past having just a reasonably full terrace by the time we left at 4:45.
Back to Pete Gooding, this guy is meant to be an Ibizan legend, but is he just living off reputation? This my be a controversial opinion but I have never seen a good set from him, or in fact seen him even seen bothered. His legendary 12 hour sets involve him just putting on ambient tunes and they end with him just putting on house tunes and not mixing them. At space he was pretty much playing to no one but that doesn’t warrant just standing there talking on his phone. Does he ever mix tunes properly? Is he ever interested? Does he give a shit? He probably does but it seems that when ever I have seen him he has been just lazy, especially at Mambo.
So that was it for Viva, I dunno if the rooms are always arranged like that or if numbers are always like that. I hope it takes off because it does have potential, I will definitely be going back next year. Couldn’t make it in our second week through a rave injury which I’ll describe later.
day 5 Friday – Cala Tarrida, Tong @ Café Mambo, Viva Zapata
Feeling fresh when we got up on Friday and faced with a glorious day we packed the car and headed for a beach. Cala Tarrida was the chose spot and after a short drive we found ourselves in the little resort which is populated, it seems, mainly by French tourists.
I dropped Shell off to check out the beach whilst I parked up. This is where the car got damaged. There is a tiny municipal car park by the beach which looks full. It’s a small loop which holds 4 rows of cars with a circuit of road dissecting the 2 rows… if that makes sense. Anyway the car park is obviously full as I follow a car into it, but no probs we’ll just follow the loop and end up back at the entrance. Not in Ibiza. If all the spaces are full just park on the end blocking the one lane thick road. Leaving the cars that venture up to the end to block each other in. the car in front starts doing a 3 point turn in the tiny lane, but I am in his way. I need to reverse. I do so, but as I do scrape the side against a scaffold that was erected across a few of the spaces. SHIT. The back door is dented and has a 2 inch thick scratch that is about 6 inches long right in the middle. Eventually I park on the road, assess the damage and nearly break down crying through sheer frustration. Why do these idiots park like this?!?!?!?!?!
Out of the car we walk to the beach, down a steep, slippy path which is too much for a fat German teenager who goes west. Its pretty funny but he looks like he is about to cry, some Italians ask if he is OK, he says yes and then everyone bursts out laughing at him, us included. The kid must have been so embarrassed but it was funny. Tender footing on the rest of the way down for me. Cala Tarrida is a lovely beach, the nicest sand I have experienced on the island, fluffy, which is pebble free, the water was the clearest I have experienced as well, and so refreshing on such an incredibly hot day.
Another day of quality sun bathing interspersed with bat and ball (best rally around 7, lie-lowing, snorkelling and swimming and dissected with a really nice Pizza and sangria at one of the beach bars. This beach is definitely a must with me from now on.
We left the beach after an absolute baking at about 7pm to get ready for a night at café mambo. We got there at about 8pm to see the area in front of mambo’s which could very loosely be described as a beach absolutely rammed with the crowd reacting well to the tunes Tong was playing. After bumping into some chums and drinking out supermarket bought drinks we decided enough was enough and to head for El Rincon de Pepe.
We ended up leaving for food earlier than expected due to do the drinks lasting half the time we thought they would. There where bouncers patrolling the beach in front of mambos turning people away that were carrying their own drinks, but they were fighting a loosing battle, every one does it and it is a way to do something in Ibiza on the cheap. The sunset was serenaded by Jamie Cullem doing a live performance and received the usual cheers and applause as it passed over the horizon. It was definitely one of the better sunsets I have experienced on sunset strip. Jamie Cullem followed this with a cover of “where love lives” before handing over to David Guetta. At this point we left.
Viva Zapata
Located between sunset strip and the west end is Tex Mex restaurant, Viva Zapata. It’s cheap, cheerful, nice décor and has very attentive staff. The food is nothing special but it is tasty. We had 3 starters between us; potato skins, chicken wings and nachos. For mains we had ribs and tacos, washed down with a beer and a schnapps and orange for Shell, this meal cost us 39€.
This is the 4th time we’ve eaten here and wont be the last, it’s not the best restaurant on the, not even the best Tex Mex in San An, but its good enough and they provide sombreros for daft photos.
Day 7 Saturday – Benirass, El Rincon de Pepe, The West End
Another cracking day awaited us when we woke up, and as planned we headed of to Benirras. Located in the northwest of the island head to San Miguel, then follow signs. Benirras is in the adjacent cove to the Port de San Miguel, which means driving over a steep rocky peninsular with is breathtakingly beautiful and scary at the same time. When you reach the bottom of the other side you reach Benirras. The sand is golden but quite course with lots of broken shells. Its hard to described the cove and do it justice. The steep pine covered hills turn into rocky cliffs which plummet into the deep turquoise water. The beach is usually populated mainly by Spanish people although there were a surprisingly high number of English people there this time. We ate at “Restaurant 2000” which is one of 3 on the beach. The paella was very tasty, lost of seafood; fish, squid, octopus; crab, prawns, mussels and clams all visible as well as chick pieces. Washed down with a big jug of fruity sangria and a couple of cokes, this lunch set us up for the rest of the days hard relaxation. It cost us 42€.
I am lying on the sun bed drifting in and out of consciousness, I don’t know how long I am asleep for, if at all, and then it starts. There are some accents that I find extremely irritating, brummy for one, harsh scouse accents, but also posh o.k. yah types. This girl has arrived with her public school chums and just will not shut up. If she mentions they are on the only BA flight to Ibiza one more time, she is getting a punch. But she does. She goes on and on, and on and on, and on. PLEASE SHUT UP. She doesn’t. Her whiny posh voice is going through me. We leave the beach.
El Rincon de Pepe
Being back earlier than expected means we can get to El Rincon de Pepe and get a table. A small gem right in the middle of the west end. We get a tiny table inside and start to look at the tapas menu. There are about 15 on offer and we choose 3 each out of them, they arrive in dribs and drabs which suits our 8 inch wide 3ft long table just fine. Eating tortilla with bread slices of pork fillet in garlic oil and lamb kebabs in a tiny little tapas bar is pretty much my idea of perfection on holiday. A pint of Aguilla to accompany the food brings the total cost of the meal to 31€
Being conveniently situated in the west end we went in search of cheap drinks; the cheapest we could find in the grottiest bar we could find. And we did it. I don’t have a clue what it’s called except that it looks like a kitchen from a council estate that chav kids have decorated with permanent markers. A harsh drink later and we wander the streets of the west end looking for souvenirs.
This was the night of the big radio 1 night at space and I was undecided about going as there was some good acts on the bill, Garnier being the big attraction, but my mind was soon made up for me when we reached the taxi rank in San An and saw the selection of Britain’s best that had formed the worlds longest queue.
Another early night.
day 7 Sunday – Cala Vedella, Bar M, Space
A week had passed and time for new neighbours on both sides. The fun boys on our left are replaced with a family of Yorkshire in-breds and the gang on inbred Yorkshire lads on our right are replaced with a nice family from the north east.
The scouse house on repeat is replaced by some of Yorkshires finest Bassline house. For those that don’t know this is what speed garage turned into. Speed garage bass line with cheesy remixes of classic tracks or cheap sounding rapping. Anyway the Yorkshire family consist on a Nan, a couple of young single mums that are mid 30’s and their teenage chav daughters. Turned out there’s nothing these chavettes all like more than sharing a Garry with their mums. Their song of choice on repeat is something by the RDS. I have no idea what the f*** the RDS is other than the fact they have made the shittest tune in the world where they tell everyone that they are the RDS, the RDS, the RDS, we are the best.
The other Yorkshire lads next door were an odd bunch before they left, didn’t here a peep out of them for a week until they have a huge fight and started throwing glasses at each other at 2 in the afternoon.
Back to Sunday and we wake quite late and quickly get ready to head to the beach, the south west corner has proved good so far and so we decide upon Cala Vedella.
A nice beach but sand was everywhere. I know that is usually the case with beaches, and a criterion for a beach actually being a beach but this sand got everywhere. It was suspended in the water to such an extent that visibility was minimal and you emerged from the water covered in sand. No shower meant that applying sun cream meant you gave your self a good sanding with this and the fact the nearest shop was a fair walk through energy sapping sand meant that the time we could bear at the beach was minimal. We stayed for a few hours, which I kind of regret because it was the last day where we saw a full day of Sun, the next week saw overcast days, broken cloud and only partially sunny days.
Feeling extremely uncomfortable caked in sand we headed back to the hotel for some swimming and then sat out the rest of the afternoon on the balcony drinking sangria. With space looming we took the easy option for food and went to Nando’s at Bar M, we both had a half chicken and chips and accompanied by a couple of drinks it set us back by about 30€. The food was filling but that’s about it. The chicken was cooked on a dirty griddle which left gritty charcoal on the skin. Average Nandos food.
A short rave rest and we awake running a bit late for space. We get there about 1230am and end up in the queue for the better part of an hour, but we meet a sweet group of welsh revellers that have just landed and the time flies as we chat and joke. The queue for the club is as eventful as the taxi queue and several times we stopped some cute little girls and some lads from pushing right to the front, this seemed to get the opposite response to the taxi queue and everyone seemed to look down at us for stopping them this time.
We get in about 130 having missed a big chunk of the duo from soulwax, but things are going well as we find a speck and start to get down to a mix of big electroclash tunes and pop music. We meet up with some friends and dance away to tunes like “voulez vous” by ABBA, “rocking the casbah” by the clash and NY excuse.
When 2manyDJs finish we head inside to see Jeff Mills, who Shell happens to hate. But he is rocking it hard with some sweet percussive techno mixed with house tunes as he seems to do at Space. His set ends all too quickly at Toga takes control playing a classy electro set. At 6:30 we call it a night and jump in a cab home.
Day 8 Monday – Pool, Ca Na Ribes
I woke up at around 4pm feeling like death, no way I am going anywhere. So I slink off to the pool escorted by Michelle. We spend the next few hours recovering and start to discuss what to do that night. Cocoon is the big one for me, Miss Kittin being the star attraction but I am feeling very tender and it doesn’t seem likely. We are definitely going for a meal with 2 friends, which I need to book at table for but in the end I think its best if we take them to Santa Eularia and let them pick a restaurant.
This plan works, we get to Santa Eularia and are easy going MoFo companions pick Ca Na Ribes. Suits me fine and we get a table in the terrace area. Having enjoyed the meal I had a few days early I take the easy, unimaginative option and order the same. Shell going back to her fish dishes goes for the traditional Dorada (Gilt-head bream) baked in a salt crust. The food is as tasty as ever but this time my tenderness from the previous night means I pathetically can’t finish my meal or manage a dessert. After a couple of hours of chatting and as the restaurant is shutting we leave. This is where there night got interesting for several little reasons.
Reason 1: Odd creature
As we are making are way back to the car we stop off at Cellar C’an Perre to look at the lobsters. We’re stood there admiring these strange creatures and then it appears or rather it unravels itself. A strange type of crustacean that looks like a type of huge aquatic woodlouse.
Reason 2: The smear
I don’t know what it was. I don’t know how it got there. But it was. This sticky substance just appeared on my windscreen and I kept forgetting to clean it off. It came to a head on the way to Santa Eularia when the bastard got smeared right in front of my view. The windscreen washer couldn’t get rid of it, just liquefied it enough to smear it a bit more. It was getting the better of me and I’d had enough. So I stopped at the garage to get some window cleaner, but typically they don’t sell any form of cloth, just tissues. So bear that in mind; in Ibizan garages you can buy alcohol, and not just a beer but hard spirits and also XXX rated porn on VHS but not any form of cloth.
Reason 3: The rave
A long pleasant very night is coming to an end and we’re heading towards are chums apartments along the road the Curry Club is on, and on the waste land where there circus was, we spot a group of locals gathered around a rust heap of a car raving hard to some hardcore. We drive past pissing ourselves but I need photographic evidence of this sheer mad head moment and so do a u-ey and head back. Shell sat shotgun has the camera ready but apparently I drive past to fast. U-ey time. Shit, it’s now on my side. So I pull level and stop. The window comes down for a better view. This could go either way, they could love the attention or potentially get aggressive. They love it and rave harder. We shout some encouragement and they rave harder. Then one ambles over. He could be about to kills us. Instead he wants a photo taken. We oblige and the drive off. Though at one point it was close to me actually getting out and joining them for a quick boogie.
Day 9 – Tuesday, Exploring D’alt Villa
The late nights are taking the toll on me and I am shattered when I wake at 3pm. A quick check of the weather and its really cloudy so I decide I deserve an extra couple of hours and finally get up properly at 5pm. A bit pissed off an missing a day I am determined to catch up and make the most of it. So off we go to Ibiza town. I was determined to explore D’alt Villa properly during the day time and this day was gonna be it. We parked up and walked into the town. An immense hunger took over and I need food fast so we go to the pizza hut and KFC where I order some of both and polish them off in double speed. Set up for the day we head towards the old town. we take the opportunity to make the most of all the shops being open and buy some presents; a lovely big sangria jug for my mum, a silver ring for Michelle and some bits and pieces for my nieces and nephews.
D’alt Villa
Laden with presents we make our way into the walled citadel and head of up the street to the left after entering the square. The road ascends quite steeply and soon plateaus out in the battlements which over look Ibiza town giving breathtaking views of the city, the harbour, the cliffs that the old town perches on and on Formentera in the distance. After taking photos which to be honest do little justice to the views head off following the wall which is on the easterly side of the citadel and next to the sea. It leads to a strange little garden that hosts a 1000 year old tomb? Or maybe it was 30 years? The second number was slightly eroded so the date was with 1079 or 1979??? Some difference but I prefer to go with the former.
We follow the wall around the garden and it lead to a little gate with steps that lead off into the wall. Determined to continue my exploration I convince Shell that this won’t just lead into some ones house and that if it does I will apologise and with that we enter. The stairs emerge into the sunlight and at the foot of another set of stairs, this time outside. Onwards and upwards we climb, finding ourselves
At the foot of the crane which can be seen inn the skyline of the old town. It looks like our adventure has come to an end as it is fenced off but it’s an optical illusion and we can pass the building site easily. In the distance we stop another doorway leading off into the wall and the adventure continues. A large staircase which doubles back on itself is filled with the sound of singing in the distant and we meet a busker as we reach the bend where the sweet singing is coming from.
We emerge at the top of the stair, enter a courtyard and we are at the cathedral. We enter the cathedral and take a minute to sit on a pew, gather our thoughts, take in the surroundings and recover from the journey.
Completely shattered we opt to find a different route down and start off through the thin winding lanes and passages, passing a curious selection of shops, bars, boutiques house and chapels. We pass the movie star hotel and get drinks from a tiny bar with a strange guy running it. Eventually we see a set of stairs which we take and emerge out opposite El Olivo.
I really enjoyed this little adventure, it took the best part of 2 hours and well worth it. Fascinating, curious, surreal and even a little scary at times when we stumbled upon a big group of residents, you couldn’t help but feel like you were invading something quite personal and private. I felt like at time we were walking through a picture postcard, sometimes through the “labyrinth” where David Bowie would pop out in lycra pants at anytime and then through a modern cosmopolitan city. Next year we will be heading off to explore the other side of D’alt Villa. Chuffed with our present haul and exploration we headed back to San An.
Totally stuffed still from the KFC and pizza hut we had a siesta which made me even more lethargic and put ends to hope of a club that night. We decided on drinks in San An at 11pm we walked along the promenade towards the bright lights.
PR’s
Now I fully appreciate the work of a PR. Kids that save up all year, sell possessions to venture to Ibiza for 4 months and the best summer of their lives. They earn a pittance for long hours with hardly any time off and live of cheap food to fund their ravings. Good on them. With this in mind I really do try my best to be polite and gracious when declining their advances, but sometime they just cannot take the hint.
We are walking past Bar M when a youth that looks no older than 15 or 16 walks over to us, flyers in hand…
“No thanks,” I get in first.
“Cream on Thursday?”
“No we’re not going thanks.”
“Let me tell you about cream seeing as you have a tattoo on your arm.”
“I don’t want to know,” I reply, maybe this is a little rude.
The reply I get is the little prick bursting out laughing in typical told off teenager way as he runs off to tell him PR mates. I felt like going back and asking him to tell me about cream…. Please young boy, tell me something about cream that I don’t know… well done on spotting my tattoo, I got this because I have obviously have never been and need really do need to be filled in about what this f***ing thing on my shoulder means. Tell me something about Tiesto I don’t know or even better Paul Oakenfold, I was watching that ape DJ when you was f***ing 6 years old lad. But my new sensible, tight lipped self refrains and the wave of anger with this prepubescent idiot passes.
Off to the west end where we amble around trying our best to mind our own business, politely declining offers of 2 for 1 drinks, until we meet bell end pr number 2.
“Do you guys want a free aftershock?”
“No mate, aftershock is f***ing horrible and your bar is f***ing dogshit, its empty its looks horrible and its playing terrible music,” is the reply that shoots into my mind, but it’s a cool “no thanks,” that crosses my lips.
“Why not do you, what’s wrong with you, do you always pass up freebies?” is what I get said back to me, in a way that lacks any humour and rings contempt.
“Listen dickhead, you’re ugly and your bar stinks of puke,” is my preferred reply, but with a knot in my stomach a smirked “look’s that way,” is what I say.
Enough is enough, and we decide to retire to the sanctuary of our balcony to play cards and drink sangria, though I can’t help myself with a few pr’s on the way back, but with nothing to rude.
“Are you coming to tidy vs. extreme euphoria?” a question with so many possibilities gets;
“No thanks hard house makes me want to puke on myself.”
“Well we do have funky room?” earns,
“Yes but I’d rather nail my scrote to a piece of wood,” this one earns me a strange look as the girl walks off and mutters something about having a good night.
Obviously only 2 examples of annoying PR’s but these two, for whatever pathetic reasons really irritated me at the time.
Day 10 – Hippy market, Pacha Restaurant and Subliminal
Concerned that too many days weren’t getting used to their best potential we forced ourselves up at 11 and jumped in the car bound for Es Canar and the famous hippy market.
Now I have heard that this is the most commercial of the two and that Saturdays at Las Dias is more “authentic” and I am sure that it is now after visiting Es Canar. Set in the grounds of a hotel the winding paths are lined with stalls selling all kinds of goods.
Having experienced proper head shops I had really high expectation of the stalls, the good, the sellers and the market in general but it was all a tad disappointing. It was a market for tourists, state the obvious I know, aimed at tourists. For a start everything was well overpriced, comparable with the prices of boutiques in Ibiza town and the bartering was not flexible with unless it knock only 1 euro or so off the price. There were some stalls that really excited me and did sell unique, cool items and some that sold really nice clothes etc but they were few and far between compared to the excess of lucky lucky men stalls boasting the same fake designer gear you see all over the island or are offered on any beach. I also felt the “genuine” hippy’s were rip off merchants, charging 20€ for a CD of their drum playing. This said it was a nice morning wandering around the stalls, trying stuff on I had no intention of buying and taking photos. Just don’t visit this market expecting to find a host of bargains (I am sure there are some) or a load of hippy settlers scraping a living by selling their wares.
After a busy morning we had built up a severe hunger and so decided to have our one off full English. We find a gaff that boasts PG tips and real English bacon and take our seats for our 3.90€ super breakfast. I love and hate these places. I hate that they are all too common in resorts that cater to English tastes, I hate that people go abroad unwilling to try something new and scoff at foreign culture and tastes whilst more than willing to let their hosts cook them English food. I love the opportunity to watch these people though. It’s like your own personal episode of Trisha. It’s really shitty to do it but I can’t help laugh at these people, their lives just seem based around sheer aggression, it’s unbelievable. In return I can’t help but to try and fill in the story of their lives. The family is store were pure council estate. Two daughters in their 20’s with black kids, a mum that looked like she had the kids young, a few Birkenhead facelifts, hair sprayed fringes, lashing of Elizabeth Duke’s finest and so much shouting at the poor kids. If he doesn’t want to eat his beans love threatening to hit him won’t make him.
Disclaimer: I know everyone that likes fry ups and egg and chips for tea isn’t a chav/pikey etc etc.
Cala D’Hort
The boiling hot weather at Es Canar isn’t matched back in San An but determined to make the most of it we decided to head off to a beach and opt for Cala D’Hort.
We arrive at the cove for Cala D’Hort and struggle to park, but when we do, I do it in such a fashion as to leave a definite escape route, unlike some poor idiot, who is blocked in the grandest fashion I have ever seen, cliffs on the right, tree at the rear and car parallel on the left and then one blocking him in totally at the front.
Our second visit to this beach and we’re not impressed. Yes there are dramatic views of Es Vedra but the beach is rocky and the sand is well on its way to becoming like sunset stripe, full of cigarette butts to a disgusting level. We leave after 3 hours.
Pacha restaurant
A week previously I had nipped into the Pacha restaurant and booked a table for tonight. The plan being, as according to the rumour, that if you spend over 100€ they invite you into the club.
The crux of this is that between 2 our bill came to 152€, at no point did anyone mention going into the club, but after paying our bill we just walked into the club without any questioning from staff.
We arrived at a closed Pacha 30 minutes early for our 2300 table to find the restaurant probably around ¼ full. We were ushered to our table which was downstairs in the sushi bar. The décor was everything you would expect from Pacha. Palm trees lined the walls of a room that is a basically a covered terrace. In keeping with the Asian theme of the room is rustic furniture as well as Thai/Oriental ornaments.
Our table is in the corner, definitely not idea for a few reasons; the main being that we are right by the border planting and a light, a combination which means lots of Mosquitoes and plenty of bites for Michelle.
The meal was of an excellent standard slightly let down by the service. There was a couple of waiting staff that were bubbly and friendly but let down by a couple that were, although professional, lacked a smile, and seemed bored and uninterested… they all probably were but its whether you show it.
After 15 minutes of reading the menu we finally get the opportunity to order and a really nice waitress brings over our wine, a lovely bottle of Chardonnay and a plate with 2 small aperitifs. A halved date stuffed with blue cheese awaits my palate. Dear god. This was the strongest blue cheese I have ever tasted, I like cheese but this was disgusting. I may as well have taken a bite out of a turd. So I am there with this whole thing in my mouth struggling to chew and trying to repress throwing up for a second time in the most beautiful club in the world and I see Shell looking at hers. I know she isn’t a fan of strong cheese.
“What’s it like?”
I want to say, “Don’t eat it, it’s disgusting,” but my mouth is so full and I don’t really want to move this horrid bolus more than I have to. I mutter a noise of some form. Shell takes a small bite. The look on her face is a picture but her small taster almost gone all she has left to do is swig some water and end this experience. I am struggling. I know I can’t spit this out it must be swallowed. Gulp. YES it’s gone!!! Ah f*** no, it’s stuck in my throat and I’m going to throw up. Relief. It’s gone. All that remains is an intense shitty taste in my mouth akin to what I imagine brushing your teeth with shit must be like. One of those funny moments when you’re glad you’re just with your long term partner and not on a first date or with a huge group of friends.
With that little nightmare over we await the rest of our meal. In due time the starters arrive, a shellfish filled pasta in leek sauce for myself, with really is awesome and a warm king prawn salad for Michelle, some huge prawns char grilled with a lovely dressing which had definite flavours of soy sauce, balsamic and fruits.
A 40 minute wait between courses awaited us, which was fine as we were in no rush, were enjoying an excellent bottle of wine and also didn’t want to be the first people in the club.
Eventually our main courses arrive; a leg of suckling lamb for me served with crisped potatoes which was good but definitely surpassed by Michelle’s choice of Sea Bream with garlic and onion rings.
After we finish our main courses there is another 10 minute wait for the dessert menu and then a 20 minute wait for them to arrive. Well worth the wait, for what was probably the nicest dessert of the holiday, a peach and strawberry farandole for me and a white choc mousse with passion fruit sorbet for Shell. A coffee and a couple of drinks make up the rest of our bill.
The bill finally arrives after a long wait to catch someone’s attention and then a for it to be brought to us and by 2am after a might 3.5 hours we are ready to go into the club. Uninvited by any staff we are anxious as to whether we’ll get collared on our way in, but we don’t and we get into a club which is filling nicely.
Nine Thirty PM on the 6th of August arrives and after nearly a year of waiting and we find ourselves heading towards Manchester Airport for our 12am flight to the White Isle. After a quick check-in we find ourselves with a 30 minute delay and extra time to explore the delights of Manchester’s terminal 2. After a quick couple of scoops in the terminals only bar and a sunglasses fashion parade in the duty free shop (an excellent opportunity to try on the latest Burberry check shaded) we head over to our gate where boarding has started. A smooth take off, a sprightly 1hr 50 minute flight later and we touch down in Ibiza. Our cases roll off within the first few, shock horror we’re the first out of the doors.
We are booked with Twenty’s, and don’t plan on doing anything with them except for travelling back to the airport with them, but as a courtesy to let them know we have arrived I head over to our rep and tell him we intend of getting a taxi to the hotel. The rep tells me he’ll wake me up at 10am for the welcome meeting, I tell him not to bother and that’s the last time we speak. This suits me in a way as I am not interested in any of the excursions, clubs but a hello when we passed in the hotel might have been nice.
We get a taxi to the hotel in San Antonio which costs about 25€ for us and our 2 cases and the next day we find our decision to get a cab saved us several hours after the time taken for the rest of the crowd to get their cases, find the rep and coaches and get dropped off.
The Hotel Bahia
Great location if San An is your bag, and not bad even if it isn’t. Its location means you are 10 minutes very slow stroll to Bar M and Itaca, another 10 from the hustle and bustle of San An. It also means you can avoid the traffic of the town whist being close to roads leading to Ibiza, PDB and the south of the island. The location on the promenade means that there is no real noise from passers by or traffic. The position offers great views of the bay and sunset for some rooms. We were lucky enough to get one which did add to our experience of the hotel.
The Bahia is listed as a 4* hotel, which it probably was once upon a time. It isn’t now. The once ministry of sound hotel is now to my knowledge available in 2 package brochures, first choice summer sun and twenty’s, which means you get a mixture of families and single sex groups. The dividing walls are ply wood and so loud music is a nightmare and in fact so can quite loud talking in adjacent rooms.
The hotel boasts a sauna and gym, neither of which are functioning, both rooms are now used as storage areas.
The impression over all I got from the hotel was that it was a 4* hotel in decline, an example of which I think you can see in the cleaning service. Like a quality hotel the cleaners will not disturb you if asked and the handbooks stated they will return later that day or the next. During the last week we never saw any cleaning and only had the do not disturb on 3 of those days until about 3pm. But to the hotels credit they have an excellent set of reception staff that will be pleased to sort out your problems, are very friendly and extremely approachable. There are also signs of the hotel heading into slight disrepair, light bulbs not working, washing lines that fall out of the wall, fitting and furnishings missing, broken sun loungers etc.
All the rooms have air-con, its good but subtle… it won’t make an instant impact on the temp, or in fact have a noticeable effect during the day, but it will make you freeze your bollocks off during the night, so sleeping is not a hot sweaty nightmare.
The pool area is nice, but being Twentys can get a bit leery. There is also a 24hr bar service which serves standard bar type snack food.
Every room has a safe deposit box which cost us a total of 50€ for the 2 weeks. The kitchenette area of the room is tiny and although I never cook in the room I can imagine it would be a nightmare to do so as the rooms are quite small and the heat would become unbearable.
I don’t think I would stay at the Bahia again mainly due to late night noise within the hotel with it being Twenty’s, late night shouting, music and door banging. In future we will be looking for family hotels as they’re just more in keeping with what we’re after. The 2nd week actually saw a shift toward more families and for us it was a much nicer atmosphere. I can’t imagine how impossible sleeping was when the MoS ran the gaff and had MP3 players in every room!!!! I also don’t think it is the right hotel for anyone excepting a true representation of a 4* hotel or maybe what you’d expect from a 4* hotel in the UK. Most of the population of the hotel where with Twenty’s and had paid more for the Bahia than standard Twenty’s hotel and I think they got great value for money; slightly better accommodation that usual, a nice pool and lots of like minded individuals.
day 1 Picking up the car, El Patio, Rias Baixes, Sundays at Space[/u]
So, we’re finally in our room and Michelle comes out with “I’ve brought the wrong key”
“For what?”
“My case.”
She’d brought the wrong little key for the lock on her case. Her dream case. The pink case she wanted a year or so a go but never got, the case which she bought during the winter and has longingly wished was time to pack for holidays. The case I was about to kill. After 20 minutes of hot struggling with the lock and breaking out in a serious sweat I grab a kitchen knife and stab the zip, ruining her brand new case. Never mind though Michelle being Michelle and conveniently for me, a girl, it means that she has already seen a new case, a new case of her dreams, a case she longs to buy etc etc etc.
After unpacking its getting late, well rather it’s getting early on Sunday and we decide best thing is to get some sleep. The second the lights go off, we experience our paper-like walls for the first time. A football teams worth of scousers return to one of their rooms after a hard nights raving and decide to carry the night on in a way the pleasure rooms would be proud of (a local joke for local people) and put on a cd of the finest scouse house at full volumes. Banging.
I don’t know if I slept that night, it was light when the music stopped and even lighter when I opened my eyes after rolling over felling slightly refreshed it was time to soldier on.
car hire, rent-a-car, CARJET, centauro
The first morning is glorious and we prepare to pick up our car for the 2 weeks. Shitty flight times meant we had to get it the day later as the office was shut, so it’s in a taxi and back to Ibiza airport.
I’d booked our car for 13 days back in January using carjet.com after having a trouble free experience with them in 2004, which I might add included some very good efficient customer service. I have had a slightly different experience this year.
2 weeks before we went I thought it might actually better if we had access to the car for the last day, so tried to contact carjet to try to add an extra day. I emailed and within hours had a reply saying adding the extra day would be fine, just phone up to make the payment. The number just would not connect, the automated service for each option ended in the call being terminated. I emailed them to ask them to call me and received a reply saying a call back was not possible try the number again. I did. I noticed a new option “enter an extension now.” I email asking for an extension. Reply – not possible, if I want to make a payment (for a value I don’t know) just email them my details or write the card details down on a fax. I reply stressing neither of these is secure enough and asking for this to be escalated to a supervisor that can call back. For the first time I receive a reply that is more the just one line, so I assume a supervisor of some kind, and this tells me that in the time taken to complete this change the supplier has become fully booked, but to phone them from the resort. Did they not read this, the numbers don’t work!!!!!!!!!
Anyway it was only for an extra day, no probs we can live without it and I should have booked it properly from the start, at least it was reasonably cheap and I had the bonus of fully comp insurance with no excess with all these crazy continental drivers about!!! Oh hang on, no I don’t.
I am stood at the centauro desk and the guy is telling me in broken English that I have to agree to pay a 180€ excess or I can’t have the car. In the end I agree thinking that there’s no way I will damage it. Seven days later and the way its heading I am looking at returning a crushed cube to the company, though I do fully admit the most serious knock was sort of my fault, but every time I return to the car after parking it there is either a new scratch or dent or some idiots has totally blocked me in or left me etc etc.
So when I returned the car the guy tells me I have lost the excess, even though I protest… hang on I haven’t paid the excess yet… oh dear… I knew I had agreed to pay it, but thought I’d argue it out if anything did happen, thinking that centauro would have a number that did work if they had to get some money. Well it turn out when I picked it up and said I would pay the fuel money (fully expecting to do this) the guy typed in 221€ not just 41€, and I signed without checking. Shit happens, so now I am faced with trying to contact the faceless corporation that is carjet.
All that said getting a car makes the holiday for me just don’t make the same idiotic mistakes!!! Back to the rest of the day….
After a shaky drive back to the hotel we park up and decide to go for a stroll around San An. We look around San An and decide to go for a jug of sangria. We decide upon a restaurant called El Patio which is one of those by the musical fountains, these restaurants don’t really appeal to me for a meal of a night time as these seem to much like spag-bol-for-the-English types to me but the sangria was really nice, really fruity with a nice kick added by some brandy. The location was good for people watching and the waiter proved to be a willing first victim of my latest attempt to master the Spanish language. A huge free hierbas later and off we go to source some tickets for We Love Sundays at Space.
Buying club tickets
I know WLS tickets never vary in price but this year I found it really difficult to find any variation in price. All the bars and shops seemed to be the same price, maybe I need to look harder, but anyway for the record orange corner, bar m, Itaca all seemed to have the same price as our hotel and these seemed to be the cheapest or rather equally as cheap as anywhere else we saw.
This year a few times workers were offered us flyers saying they worked out cheaper than tickets which for WLS I found hard to believe and the same for Viva. I’d much rather have a ticket anyway, and was apprehensive about this advice although I know a flyer does work best for getting to Carl Cox early.
Tickets acquired we paddle our back towards the hotel, planning to have a siesta, go to a restaurant then heading to space for midnight. Just as our heads touch the pillows, our neighbours turn up and up on a scouse house remix of…. Name escapes me atm….. On repeat for 90 minutes. Cool.
Siesta over we get ready to go out, I nip over to the cash point and notice a rather spotty young man, walking with great purpose along the road in all his splendour, freshly ironed Ben Sherman, sharply creased trousers and nicely polished shoes, the image stuck in my mind, it only being 8:30 and still roasting hot. Back in the room we decide on going for Tapas at El Rincon de Pepe. On reaching the bar we find it full to bursting and decide to arrive without reservation at Rias Biaxes.
Rias Biaxes
We ate here last year and it was superb, but Shell had sunstroke and didn’t want to eat her meal. She had been looking forward to having the same dish since last year and I had been looking forward to the same since I had tried a bit of what she’d left. The restaurant was almost empty when we arrived and they happily accommodated us and within an hour the terrace where we were sat was full as was most of the inside, so I’d advice getting a booking to eat here.
For starters I had Fishcake which was a slice of a layered fish terrine, Shell had the seared scallops. For mains we both had the monkfish medallions with prawns and a crab sauce. The food was superb, the setting is high class in the middle of San An and the service was good. For the two courses with a ½ bottle of wine the bill came to 72€.
If you don’t like seafood, do not head here, if you do, it’s a must. Will definitely be going back next year.
Space
At 11:30 we walked back towards the hotel to get ready for the club and who should be walking back home absolutely trashed but our spotty friend from 3 hours earlier. Oh dear.
We arrived at Space at around midnight, and swiftly entered the club. Groove Armada were rocking the new terrace which was full to bursting, the sunset terrace was going off as well. The new terrace is a definite improvement IMO, it really is a top class club room, from the lighting to décor, I love it. But the main attraction for me this night was DJ Sneak.
We saw brief glimpses of Groove Armada as we waited for Sneak, they were knocking out the anthems, the atomic hooligan mix of Born slippy being one we caught. Sneak started 30 minutes early to an almost empty discotecha room, playing an hours worth of techy filtered house, before moving on to some pretty tough but always funky techno. Techno is definitely the music I think suits the inside of space best, I can’t think of anything better. The last hour saw sneak head back to his trademark jackin’ house style
Following sneak was Felix the Housecat, accompanied by Puff Daddy. I was certain he was there but every time I pointed him out to Shell a different guy dressed near enough the same had moved to where I was pointing.
Felix the mousemat played his standard set, one I must admit I loved 18 months ago, but with hardly any new additions, that said is was a pretty fun set and I did enjoy it. He did play the Holden mix of ‘the sky was pink’ which I have been dying to hear in a club and it didn’t disappoint, the bass is a proper club destroyer, I thought my head was going to explode. He followed this with a remix of ‘watching cars go by’ that must have been about 10 minutes long. During his set the artist formerly known as cheesy poof daddy was getting steadily leerier. At one point he showed the crowd just how hard he was by standing by the decks, his back to the crowd he necked half a bottle of JD in one go .Solid Puff. The majority of the Italian crowd got boners at this move. I was actually more impressed by the fact that puff and all his homo’s had big heavy coats on, zipped up, and baseball caps on in a club which was scorching hot.
A dub of “I’ll Jack You” was put on and combesy started doing the vocals live which credit where it’s due sounded really good, but alas diddly widdly was wasted and spoilt it by kicking the mixer or standing on something and making the music go off. Then he tried to say stuff over other tunes, Felix started looping beats so he could do it, every tune started to take 10-15 minutes and it was time to leave for us.
day 2 Monday – Cala Bassa, Bar M, Santa Eularia, Ca Na Ribes
We woke up at about 2pm after Space. We got ready, spread the map out on the table and looked for a beach. After 5 minutes of indecision we gave up, headed to the car and drove off. We picked a random brown beach direction sign and headed toward it. It was one close to San An Bay and pretty grim, desolated, rocky and just plain crap, we stayed in the car and headed off again this time following the signs towards Cala Bassa.
Cala Bassa is a really nice beach, very popular, very full, mainly with Italians and Spanish, lots of water sports and some rocks for cliff jumping. The rocks which climb out of the beach making the cove that cala bassa is situated in make cliff of about 20ft, the volcanic rock is quite dramatic to walk over with shafts plummeting away to the sea littering the surface. The sand at the beach is golden and not rocky at all and accompanied by very clear turquoise water.
We left the beach at about 7pm and headed back to the Bahia. After a quick shower we headed off to Bar M for some Sangria, more alcoholic laden cocktail that refreshing drink but nice all the same. The bar man turned out to live by me and play for a rugby team I used to, he plied us with several free chupitos and it was hard to move away before getting totally trollied, but eventually we did and walked back to the hotel for a quick siesta ready for the evening.
We didn’t plan on doing much except for going to Santa Eularia. We Arrived there at about 10pm and made our way to the streets of restaurants, deciding upon eating at Ca Na Ribes, it having been our favourite of a few we visited last year. We ate inside on this visit which afford the diner views of the terrace and out onto the street.
The food here is very rustic and very very tasty, the service is excellent, and the setting is very lovely. I had the peppers stuffed with tuna and cheese in tomato sauce followed by the herb crusted roast lamb. The lamb is delicious, tender, and very flavoursome, rosemary and thyme being the predominant flavours in the herb crust with sweetness added by cherry tomatoes. The portion was huge and I struggled to finish it, but it was too nice to leave.
Michelle had mussels in a cream sauce for started and cod au gratin for main. The portion of cod was huge, a whole lateral slice of a big fish, which would have easily made 2 very large cod steaks.
For desserts we both had ice creams, anything more substantial and I think the friendly staff would have been less pleased with having to clear up the remains of two burst tourists. Instead the meal ended with a very large free hierbas and a chupito of schnapps for Shell.
The meal, 3 courses, with sangria and a couple of beers cost 76€.
We worked off some of the meal with a stroll around the promenade of Santa Eularia before calling it a night and heading for our beds.
Day 3 Tuesday – Portinax, Itaca, Sa Capella, Ibiza town
Another glorious day awaits us when we wake around midday. Another scan of the map and we decide to head as north as possible to Portinax. The beach is nice, sheltered in a cove lined with all-inclusive hotels which seem to cater mainly for British families the streets are lined with your standard little holiday restaurants offering pizzas, burgers etc and we chose one to have some bocadillos and drinks before hitting the beach. The beach was full of Brits which isn’t ideal for me, nothing against Brits but when I am relaxing I cant help but listen to what’s being said around me, which distracts me for the task in hand, impossible when I don’t understand a word. Anyway the lie story of a 30 something welsh divorcee dad, who has recently split up with his girlfriend, and likes meatloaf and adventure sports is broken up by periods of swimming, playing bat and ball with Michelle – top rally 4 at this point- and snorkelling. Being underwater loads gave me an earache so we leave at around 6.
Back at the hotel the really helpful reception call and make a reservation at Sa Capella for us whilst we get ready to stroll the prom in search of sangria again. That evening we spend a few hours at Itaca sipping at their Sangria and watching the people walking past.
Sa Capella
The only table available at Sa Capella is for 9pm, which we are late for because I just cannot find it!!!! I could see it on my AA map new we where close but couldn’t for the life of me see it. Eventually we see the little sign and pull of the main road toward the restaurant. There isn’t much parking space and we pull up onto a little embankment of rough ground adjacent to the restaurant.
Sa Capella is definitely up there with the more beautiful restaurants on the island; set in an old chapel it certain had a dramatic air about it. For starters we have a carpachio of tuna marinated in vinaigrette and a tuna pasta dish both of which are presented excellently and taste divine. For mains shell sticks with the seafood and has fillets of sole stuffed with king prawns, served with a lemon sauce which tastes amazing, but surpassed by my rack of lamb and raspberry coulis. The desserts are out of this world, tiramisu for me and a chocolate and mint slice for Michelle top the meal off, that is until the waiter brings us another dessert which is free and a large hierbas. The total cost of this meal including a ½ bottle of wine and water is 96€.
We will definitely be visiting there again, it was probably the only restaurant we visited where 99% of the menu appealed, but we will be careful where we park!!!
Outside the restaurant we are parked on this little embankment like many other people are and obviously have in the past, which is fine. That is until some idiot parks on the only way of this little knoll. The rest of the embankment, though only 2 ft high is uncomfortable steep to be driving of without risk of grounding the car. After 10 minutes of manoeuvring I finally get the car on the road but not without one big clunk from underneath. Something to consider for any novice drivers, and something we saw time and time again, before you park consider how you will get out, and not just how you will get out, plan all eventualities because if a hint of a space is left a car will be put into it, regardless of angle, space or you!!!!
Ibiza town at night
I am not really fussed on going to see Digweed at space and no other nights really appeal so we decide to have another quiet night. The early table at Sa Capella means the night is still young and so we decide to head over to Ibiza town.
The bus from San Antonio to Ibiza is every 30 minutes and costs 1.25€ each, bargain!!! But get your continental head on at the queue or you will miss the bus and then the next one etc etc.
We arrive in Ibiza town at about 11:30 and go straight into D’alt Villa to get a booking for the next night. We reserve a table at La Oliva and peruse the other menus on other in the square for future bookings. Our task done we explore the streets and shops of Ibiza town before heading to the marina for drinks. I am curious to see what the reputed base and rock bars have to offer and I am not surprised when the answer is a resounding nothing.
We get a table at the rock bar after 5 minutes of being ignored I make my way inside. For want of a better description it is a small hovel, lined with ancient pictures of famous people. On a quest to sample the whole islands take on sangria; a jug is ordered and I watch it get prepared…. Fill one jug to the top with ice, leaving little to no space for liquid. Fill half of your remaining space with sangria from a carton, “hang on… doesn’t carton sangria only cost 1€… this is going to be a cheap drink at a bar known for being expensive” add to this a splash of cheap schnapps, top up with half a bottle of fanta limon. The cost; a cool 25€. I must admit, even though I watched it being made and knew the cost, I didn’t hand the cash over, with a small inward smile that this would be my one and only transaction and the rock bar and that people that big up this bar are definitely pretty stupid. But for one night I was happy to be stupid and sat people watching yet again as the preened and beautiful people strutted their stuff back and forth. The jug of sangria did last an hour or so, so ever so slightly makes its value better. Cheaper drinks at much better bars with much more vibrant atmospheres can be found just a street away and this is where we will be heading in future.
When the sangria had finally ran out we made a move to the harbour to look at the yachts and take some pics. These dudes have serious money. I love the way they leave the back of the boats open, as is its not enough that they have a yacht that’s bigger than my house they leave it open to show that they’re carrying 3 jet skis, several mountain bikes and a couple of small motor boats. You’re loaded, we get it.
Tired of making plans about how I’ll have a boat like that within 10 years we call it a night but feeling peckish we call into MacDonald’s where I try out some more Spanish which seems to turn the young girl behind the counter on hard, which is the exact opposite effect to the girl behind the bar in Pacha who laughed at me when I spoke in Spanish.
I must admit, I am pretty much anti-fast food whilst on holiday, in respect that somewhere like Ibiza has a plethora of excellent restaurants and they add to any holiday as much as any clubbing or bar experience. But for something to fill you up and to do it fast I must admit I am Ok with popping into a fast food place. The way I look at it is that the food is processed but then so is a frozen pizza or frozen spag bol, you do get more for your money and you are guaranteed to be eating within 5 minutes.
Stuffed to bursting point we called it a night and headed off to the taxi rank. I love queuing for taxis in Ibiza Town, not that I actually like the queuing I just love seeing continental types at work and all of the unwritten rules of engagement that take place.
The first rule of queuing; don’t actually queue. Just walk to the front of the queue, staying silent while 50 glaring eyes dare you to try and get in that next cab.
The second rule of queuing; don’t actually queue II. If you are at the back of the queue, or indeed the middle of the queue, pretend the queue doesn’t exist and try flagging down a cab that is heading to the front.
The third rule of queuing; don’t actually queue III. Always try to walk past the person in front of you or alternatively, use your superior intellect to outsmart the queuing masses… leave the queue, walk 20 yards away the queue and try out some of number 2. Don’t worry the whole queue hasn’t seen you do this, doesn’t want you to trip over into on coming traffic and die and secondly this will definitely fool the driver of the oncoming empty cab. When this doesn’t work return to the queue but several places in front of where you were.
The fourth rule of queuing; should anyone else try any of the first 3 rules, scream at them.
After a short wait and a quick ride home we found our beds and drifted off to the pumping beat of scouse house.
day 4 Wednesday – water park, La Oliva, Pacha
The sky was full of clouds when we arose at around midday. Not looking good for a beach and not wanting to lose a day we decided upon visiting the water park. It costs 15€ to get in and is a fair way to spend a few hours. It’s certainly not the best water park I have ever visited but it does the job. Michelle isn’t a fan of going underwater so limited herself to the black hole which you go down in a rubber ring. This left me to test my nerve on the other slides, but also to test my speed and skill against total randoms on the other competitive slide. Two convincing wins on the “foam” later versus a difficult bunch of 11 year olds and a family with a toddler and I was feeling on top of my game. A couple of wins and a narrow second on the super toboggan after a bad start and I crowned myself king of the water park. Job done we left Playa den Bossa in a blaze of glory just as the rain started to fall, washing away the misery of the remaining losers.
Back at the hotel we decided to get in a good siesta ready for Pacha but as if by magic our Merseyside dwelling neighbours decided it was time to get the block rocking to some scouse cheese flavoured pumping beats. The bastards. Another 90 minutes solid of rhythm is a dancer and I can just picture these lads doing that scouse lads dance wearing nothing but some combat shorts and suede low slung loafers sporting their Steven Gerrard haircuts and uber tans. Eventually they turn the music off, I get so sleep and all is well in room 216.
We’ve got a 22:30 booking at La Oliva, we get there slightly early and use that time to make a booking for Thursday in La Torreta.
La Oliva
This was the first restaurant experience we had in D’alt Villa last year. The setting is romantic on the outside tables and quite quaint and rustic inside. The food was top class again though slightly let down by the service. The guys there seem to be zooming around at full speed all the time, they were the same last year. This meant that it was hard to get their attention, there was a delay between getting their attention and actually speaking to them and although this isn’t a major gripe it did slightly detract from the meal as there is a point where is goes past being relaxed to slightly irritating. Back to the food which is always the main thing for me, its well good, tastes great and is relatively cheap. For starters we had tiny cut ravioli of basil in a cheese sauce and mussels au gratin. For mains we both opted for the lamb chops in peppercorn sauce and chocolate mousse for dessert. The lamb was cooked to perfection, pink and well rested so that the meat was firm and juicy throughout and has lost the overly raw appearance that Michelle doesn’t like. We washed this down with a bottle of Can Rich, finally I wasn’t driving so could have a full bottle. The full meal including drinks set up back around 75€.
Subliminal @ Pacha
We got to Pacha about 12:30 to find an almost empty club, which I didn’t really mind as this was only my second visit to Pacha and provided opportunity to explore.
The club was filling steadily and the Dj warming up was doing a fine job, even whipping out a trumpet to play along with Calabria. A funny, surreal, great moment.
Having just eaten 3 course and drank the majority of a bottle of wine the violent contortions of my attempts to dance where having undesired effects. I am stood on the balcony looking at the filling club when I just throw up. Classy. Feeling totally fine, totally sober but shocked I look up to see that one of the 10 people that are on the balcony has seen me, looking over in disgust. Gutted. At least it never went over onto the ravers below. This horrid little episode over, I am feeling great and in full rave mode.
Jose Nunez followed on, much better than when I last saw him, playing Morillo fave “sweat dreams” and God put a smile on my face. Morillo came on and does what he does, rocked Pacha until 6am at which point he, Nunez and Jason Ojeda went back to back, we left at 7:30 while the club was still rocking.
day 4 Thursday – Pool, La Torreta, Viva @ Space
Finding it increasingly hard to recover from nights out, it wasn’t until 3pm that we awoke. Feeling incredibly tender and tired we opted for a lazy day by the pool. Sheer mentalness from the mad-heads that reside by the pool. At this point the hotel is overrun by scousers or maybe just those that camp by the pool are but it seems maybe 70% of the people in the hotel are from Merseyside, us included.
Some quality r&r time by the pool left me raring and ready to go. Listening to some quality house and having sank a few JD’s I was pretty excited about going to Steve Lawler’s new venture.
La Torreta
Before space was the small task of another 3 course meal in D’alt Villa at La Torreta. Much preferred this meal over its neighbour. The food was actually probably of the same standard maybe slightly higher, but we have a much nicer table outside in the square and the service was much more efficient.
For starters we both went for the grilled prawns in vinaigrette, the sweet and sour flavours in the vinaigrette perfectly balancing the char grilled flavour of the prawns. For mains I had pork fillet in red wine sauce whilst Michelle had Bream fillets stuffed with sage and wrapped in ham. We shared a dessert of chocolate sponge with red fruits, which was very rich and totally finished us off. This meal cost 70€.
Viva @ Space
This was musically the night I was looking forward to most. Lawler, Sasha and Josh Wink headlining. But this night was going against a huge one at Amnesia – a cream birthday line up of huge proportions. This didn’t put me off the thought of having an almost private set off 2 of my fave DJs was definitely appealing.
We got there about 1:30 to a pretty baron club. La Discotecha shut, though I am sure on the flyers it advertised Sasha and Porter here? Pete Gooding boring the arse of 20 people on the sunset terrace and Josh Wink playing to a ½ full terrace. This didn’t put me off at all as it meat all the dj’s I was after would be on in the same room, so no clashing.
Josh Wink was awesome expertly mixing some nasty acid house, he played til about 2am and was followed by Sasha. I was looking forward to Sasha most of all, but what a let down.
Sasha bored the pants off me. His music was dull, obvious riffy house and his mixing was all over the place. Not to say his actually mixing wasn’t excellent at time or good through out, but his abuse of the maven controller became irritating. On occasion he built loops well and the terrace went off, but I found that he was doing it too much, it became predictable and often done to parts of tracks that didn’t take off. Granted some of his mixing was sheer class but the abuse of that loop trigger thing on the ableton just killed it for me. Sasha only played for 1hr 45 and by the end of his set I was ready to leave. Steve Lawler took it up a notch but the night was over for me. The club never got past having just a reasonably full terrace by the time we left at 4:45.
Back to Pete Gooding, this guy is meant to be an Ibizan legend, but is he just living off reputation? This my be a controversial opinion but I have never seen a good set from him, or in fact seen him even seen bothered. His legendary 12 hour sets involve him just putting on ambient tunes and they end with him just putting on house tunes and not mixing them. At space he was pretty much playing to no one but that doesn’t warrant just standing there talking on his phone. Does he ever mix tunes properly? Is he ever interested? Does he give a shit? He probably does but it seems that when ever I have seen him he has been just lazy, especially at Mambo.
So that was it for Viva, I dunno if the rooms are always arranged like that or if numbers are always like that. I hope it takes off because it does have potential, I will definitely be going back next year. Couldn’t make it in our second week through a rave injury which I’ll describe later.
day 5 Friday – Cala Tarrida, Tong @ Café Mambo, Viva Zapata
Feeling fresh when we got up on Friday and faced with a glorious day we packed the car and headed for a beach. Cala Tarrida was the chose spot and after a short drive we found ourselves in the little resort which is populated, it seems, mainly by French tourists.
I dropped Shell off to check out the beach whilst I parked up. This is where the car got damaged. There is a tiny municipal car park by the beach which looks full. It’s a small loop which holds 4 rows of cars with a circuit of road dissecting the 2 rows… if that makes sense. Anyway the car park is obviously full as I follow a car into it, but no probs we’ll just follow the loop and end up back at the entrance. Not in Ibiza. If all the spaces are full just park on the end blocking the one lane thick road. Leaving the cars that venture up to the end to block each other in. the car in front starts doing a 3 point turn in the tiny lane, but I am in his way. I need to reverse. I do so, but as I do scrape the side against a scaffold that was erected across a few of the spaces. SHIT. The back door is dented and has a 2 inch thick scratch that is about 6 inches long right in the middle. Eventually I park on the road, assess the damage and nearly break down crying through sheer frustration. Why do these idiots park like this?!?!?!?!?!
Out of the car we walk to the beach, down a steep, slippy path which is too much for a fat German teenager who goes west. Its pretty funny but he looks like he is about to cry, some Italians ask if he is OK, he says yes and then everyone bursts out laughing at him, us included. The kid must have been so embarrassed but it was funny. Tender footing on the rest of the way down for me. Cala Tarrida is a lovely beach, the nicest sand I have experienced on the island, fluffy, which is pebble free, the water was the clearest I have experienced as well, and so refreshing on such an incredibly hot day.
Another day of quality sun bathing interspersed with bat and ball (best rally around 7, lie-lowing, snorkelling and swimming and dissected with a really nice Pizza and sangria at one of the beach bars. This beach is definitely a must with me from now on.
We left the beach after an absolute baking at about 7pm to get ready for a night at café mambo. We got there at about 8pm to see the area in front of mambo’s which could very loosely be described as a beach absolutely rammed with the crowd reacting well to the tunes Tong was playing. After bumping into some chums and drinking out supermarket bought drinks we decided enough was enough and to head for El Rincon de Pepe.
We ended up leaving for food earlier than expected due to do the drinks lasting half the time we thought they would. There where bouncers patrolling the beach in front of mambos turning people away that were carrying their own drinks, but they were fighting a loosing battle, every one does it and it is a way to do something in Ibiza on the cheap. The sunset was serenaded by Jamie Cullem doing a live performance and received the usual cheers and applause as it passed over the horizon. It was definitely one of the better sunsets I have experienced on sunset strip. Jamie Cullem followed this with a cover of “where love lives” before handing over to David Guetta. At this point we left.
Viva Zapata
Located between sunset strip and the west end is Tex Mex restaurant, Viva Zapata. It’s cheap, cheerful, nice décor and has very attentive staff. The food is nothing special but it is tasty. We had 3 starters between us; potato skins, chicken wings and nachos. For mains we had ribs and tacos, washed down with a beer and a schnapps and orange for Shell, this meal cost us 39€.
This is the 4th time we’ve eaten here and wont be the last, it’s not the best restaurant on the, not even the best Tex Mex in San An, but its good enough and they provide sombreros for daft photos.
Day 7 Saturday – Benirass, El Rincon de Pepe, The West End
Another cracking day awaited us when we woke up, and as planned we headed of to Benirras. Located in the northwest of the island head to San Miguel, then follow signs. Benirras is in the adjacent cove to the Port de San Miguel, which means driving over a steep rocky peninsular with is breathtakingly beautiful and scary at the same time. When you reach the bottom of the other side you reach Benirras. The sand is golden but quite course with lots of broken shells. Its hard to described the cove and do it justice. The steep pine covered hills turn into rocky cliffs which plummet into the deep turquoise water. The beach is usually populated mainly by Spanish people although there were a surprisingly high number of English people there this time. We ate at “Restaurant 2000” which is one of 3 on the beach. The paella was very tasty, lost of seafood; fish, squid, octopus; crab, prawns, mussels and clams all visible as well as chick pieces. Washed down with a big jug of fruity sangria and a couple of cokes, this lunch set us up for the rest of the days hard relaxation. It cost us 42€.
I am lying on the sun bed drifting in and out of consciousness, I don’t know how long I am asleep for, if at all, and then it starts. There are some accents that I find extremely irritating, brummy for one, harsh scouse accents, but also posh o.k. yah types. This girl has arrived with her public school chums and just will not shut up. If she mentions they are on the only BA flight to Ibiza one more time, she is getting a punch. But she does. She goes on and on, and on and on, and on. PLEASE SHUT UP. She doesn’t. Her whiny posh voice is going through me. We leave the beach.
El Rincon de Pepe
Being back earlier than expected means we can get to El Rincon de Pepe and get a table. A small gem right in the middle of the west end. We get a tiny table inside and start to look at the tapas menu. There are about 15 on offer and we choose 3 each out of them, they arrive in dribs and drabs which suits our 8 inch wide 3ft long table just fine. Eating tortilla with bread slices of pork fillet in garlic oil and lamb kebabs in a tiny little tapas bar is pretty much my idea of perfection on holiday. A pint of Aguilla to accompany the food brings the total cost of the meal to 31€
Being conveniently situated in the west end we went in search of cheap drinks; the cheapest we could find in the grottiest bar we could find. And we did it. I don’t have a clue what it’s called except that it looks like a kitchen from a council estate that chav kids have decorated with permanent markers. A harsh drink later and we wander the streets of the west end looking for souvenirs.
This was the night of the big radio 1 night at space and I was undecided about going as there was some good acts on the bill, Garnier being the big attraction, but my mind was soon made up for me when we reached the taxi rank in San An and saw the selection of Britain’s best that had formed the worlds longest queue.
Another early night.
day 7 Sunday – Cala Vedella, Bar M, Space
A week had passed and time for new neighbours on both sides. The fun boys on our left are replaced with a family of Yorkshire in-breds and the gang on inbred Yorkshire lads on our right are replaced with a nice family from the north east.
The scouse house on repeat is replaced by some of Yorkshires finest Bassline house. For those that don’t know this is what speed garage turned into. Speed garage bass line with cheesy remixes of classic tracks or cheap sounding rapping. Anyway the Yorkshire family consist on a Nan, a couple of young single mums that are mid 30’s and their teenage chav daughters. Turned out there’s nothing these chavettes all like more than sharing a Garry with their mums. Their song of choice on repeat is something by the RDS. I have no idea what the f*** the RDS is other than the fact they have made the shittest tune in the world where they tell everyone that they are the RDS, the RDS, the RDS, we are the best.
The other Yorkshire lads next door were an odd bunch before they left, didn’t here a peep out of them for a week until they have a huge fight and started throwing glasses at each other at 2 in the afternoon.
Back to Sunday and we wake quite late and quickly get ready to head to the beach, the south west corner has proved good so far and so we decide upon Cala Vedella.
A nice beach but sand was everywhere. I know that is usually the case with beaches, and a criterion for a beach actually being a beach but this sand got everywhere. It was suspended in the water to such an extent that visibility was minimal and you emerged from the water covered in sand. No shower meant that applying sun cream meant you gave your self a good sanding with this and the fact the nearest shop was a fair walk through energy sapping sand meant that the time we could bear at the beach was minimal. We stayed for a few hours, which I kind of regret because it was the last day where we saw a full day of Sun, the next week saw overcast days, broken cloud and only partially sunny days.
Feeling extremely uncomfortable caked in sand we headed back to the hotel for some swimming and then sat out the rest of the afternoon on the balcony drinking sangria. With space looming we took the easy option for food and went to Nando’s at Bar M, we both had a half chicken and chips and accompanied by a couple of drinks it set us back by about 30€. The food was filling but that’s about it. The chicken was cooked on a dirty griddle which left gritty charcoal on the skin. Average Nandos food.
A short rave rest and we awake running a bit late for space. We get there about 1230am and end up in the queue for the better part of an hour, but we meet a sweet group of welsh revellers that have just landed and the time flies as we chat and joke. The queue for the club is as eventful as the taxi queue and several times we stopped some cute little girls and some lads from pushing right to the front, this seemed to get the opposite response to the taxi queue and everyone seemed to look down at us for stopping them this time.
We get in about 130 having missed a big chunk of the duo from soulwax, but things are going well as we find a speck and start to get down to a mix of big electroclash tunes and pop music. We meet up with some friends and dance away to tunes like “voulez vous” by ABBA, “rocking the casbah” by the clash and NY excuse.
When 2manyDJs finish we head inside to see Jeff Mills, who Shell happens to hate. But he is rocking it hard with some sweet percussive techno mixed with house tunes as he seems to do at Space. His set ends all too quickly at Toga takes control playing a classy electro set. At 6:30 we call it a night and jump in a cab home.
Day 8 Monday – Pool, Ca Na Ribes
I woke up at around 4pm feeling like death, no way I am going anywhere. So I slink off to the pool escorted by Michelle. We spend the next few hours recovering and start to discuss what to do that night. Cocoon is the big one for me, Miss Kittin being the star attraction but I am feeling very tender and it doesn’t seem likely. We are definitely going for a meal with 2 friends, which I need to book at table for but in the end I think its best if we take them to Santa Eularia and let them pick a restaurant.
This plan works, we get to Santa Eularia and are easy going MoFo companions pick Ca Na Ribes. Suits me fine and we get a table in the terrace area. Having enjoyed the meal I had a few days early I take the easy, unimaginative option and order the same. Shell going back to her fish dishes goes for the traditional Dorada (Gilt-head bream) baked in a salt crust. The food is as tasty as ever but this time my tenderness from the previous night means I pathetically can’t finish my meal or manage a dessert. After a couple of hours of chatting and as the restaurant is shutting we leave. This is where there night got interesting for several little reasons.
Reason 1: Odd creature
As we are making are way back to the car we stop off at Cellar C’an Perre to look at the lobsters. We’re stood there admiring these strange creatures and then it appears or rather it unravels itself. A strange type of crustacean that looks like a type of huge aquatic woodlouse.
Reason 2: The smear
I don’t know what it was. I don’t know how it got there. But it was. This sticky substance just appeared on my windscreen and I kept forgetting to clean it off. It came to a head on the way to Santa Eularia when the bastard got smeared right in front of my view. The windscreen washer couldn’t get rid of it, just liquefied it enough to smear it a bit more. It was getting the better of me and I’d had enough. So I stopped at the garage to get some window cleaner, but typically they don’t sell any form of cloth, just tissues. So bear that in mind; in Ibizan garages you can buy alcohol, and not just a beer but hard spirits and also XXX rated porn on VHS but not any form of cloth.
Reason 3: The rave
A long pleasant very night is coming to an end and we’re heading towards are chums apartments along the road the Curry Club is on, and on the waste land where there circus was, we spot a group of locals gathered around a rust heap of a car raving hard to some hardcore. We drive past pissing ourselves but I need photographic evidence of this sheer mad head moment and so do a u-ey and head back. Shell sat shotgun has the camera ready but apparently I drive past to fast. U-ey time. Shit, it’s now on my side. So I pull level and stop. The window comes down for a better view. This could go either way, they could love the attention or potentially get aggressive. They love it and rave harder. We shout some encouragement and they rave harder. Then one ambles over. He could be about to kills us. Instead he wants a photo taken. We oblige and the drive off. Though at one point it was close to me actually getting out and joining them for a quick boogie.
Day 9 – Tuesday, Exploring D’alt Villa
The late nights are taking the toll on me and I am shattered when I wake at 3pm. A quick check of the weather and its really cloudy so I decide I deserve an extra couple of hours and finally get up properly at 5pm. A bit pissed off an missing a day I am determined to catch up and make the most of it. So off we go to Ibiza town. I was determined to explore D’alt Villa properly during the day time and this day was gonna be it. We parked up and walked into the town. An immense hunger took over and I need food fast so we go to the pizza hut and KFC where I order some of both and polish them off in double speed. Set up for the day we head towards the old town. we take the opportunity to make the most of all the shops being open and buy some presents; a lovely big sangria jug for my mum, a silver ring for Michelle and some bits and pieces for my nieces and nephews.
D’alt Villa
Laden with presents we make our way into the walled citadel and head of up the street to the left after entering the square. The road ascends quite steeply and soon plateaus out in the battlements which over look Ibiza town giving breathtaking views of the city, the harbour, the cliffs that the old town perches on and on Formentera in the distance. After taking photos which to be honest do little justice to the views head off following the wall which is on the easterly side of the citadel and next to the sea. It leads to a strange little garden that hosts a 1000 year old tomb? Or maybe it was 30 years? The second number was slightly eroded so the date was with 1079 or 1979??? Some difference but I prefer to go with the former.
We follow the wall around the garden and it lead to a little gate with steps that lead off into the wall. Determined to continue my exploration I convince Shell that this won’t just lead into some ones house and that if it does I will apologise and with that we enter. The stairs emerge into the sunlight and at the foot of another set of stairs, this time outside. Onwards and upwards we climb, finding ourselves
At the foot of the crane which can be seen inn the skyline of the old town. It looks like our adventure has come to an end as it is fenced off but it’s an optical illusion and we can pass the building site easily. In the distance we stop another doorway leading off into the wall and the adventure continues. A large staircase which doubles back on itself is filled with the sound of singing in the distant and we meet a busker as we reach the bend where the sweet singing is coming from.
We emerge at the top of the stair, enter a courtyard and we are at the cathedral. We enter the cathedral and take a minute to sit on a pew, gather our thoughts, take in the surroundings and recover from the journey.
Completely shattered we opt to find a different route down and start off through the thin winding lanes and passages, passing a curious selection of shops, bars, boutiques house and chapels. We pass the movie star hotel and get drinks from a tiny bar with a strange guy running it. Eventually we see a set of stairs which we take and emerge out opposite El Olivo.
I really enjoyed this little adventure, it took the best part of 2 hours and well worth it. Fascinating, curious, surreal and even a little scary at times when we stumbled upon a big group of residents, you couldn’t help but feel like you were invading something quite personal and private. I felt like at time we were walking through a picture postcard, sometimes through the “labyrinth” where David Bowie would pop out in lycra pants at anytime and then through a modern cosmopolitan city. Next year we will be heading off to explore the other side of D’alt Villa. Chuffed with our present haul and exploration we headed back to San An.
Totally stuffed still from the KFC and pizza hut we had a siesta which made me even more lethargic and put ends to hope of a club that night. We decided on drinks in San An at 11pm we walked along the promenade towards the bright lights.
PR’s
Now I fully appreciate the work of a PR. Kids that save up all year, sell possessions to venture to Ibiza for 4 months and the best summer of their lives. They earn a pittance for long hours with hardly any time off and live of cheap food to fund their ravings. Good on them. With this in mind I really do try my best to be polite and gracious when declining their advances, but sometime they just cannot take the hint.
We are walking past Bar M when a youth that looks no older than 15 or 16 walks over to us, flyers in hand…
“No thanks,” I get in first.
“Cream on Thursday?”
“No we’re not going thanks.”
“Let me tell you about cream seeing as you have a tattoo on your arm.”
“I don’t want to know,” I reply, maybe this is a little rude.
The reply I get is the little prick bursting out laughing in typical told off teenager way as he runs off to tell him PR mates. I felt like going back and asking him to tell me about cream…. Please young boy, tell me something about cream that I don’t know… well done on spotting my tattoo, I got this because I have obviously have never been and need really do need to be filled in about what this f***ing thing on my shoulder means. Tell me something about Tiesto I don’t know or even better Paul Oakenfold, I was watching that ape DJ when you was f***ing 6 years old lad. But my new sensible, tight lipped self refrains and the wave of anger with this prepubescent idiot passes.
Off to the west end where we amble around trying our best to mind our own business, politely declining offers of 2 for 1 drinks, until we meet bell end pr number 2.
“Do you guys want a free aftershock?”
“No mate, aftershock is f***ing horrible and your bar is f***ing dogshit, its empty its looks horrible and its playing terrible music,” is the reply that shoots into my mind, but it’s a cool “no thanks,” that crosses my lips.
“Why not do you, what’s wrong with you, do you always pass up freebies?” is what I get said back to me, in a way that lacks any humour and rings contempt.
“Listen dickhead, you’re ugly and your bar stinks of puke,” is my preferred reply, but with a knot in my stomach a smirked “look’s that way,” is what I say.
Enough is enough, and we decide to retire to the sanctuary of our balcony to play cards and drink sangria, though I can’t help myself with a few pr’s on the way back, but with nothing to rude.
“Are you coming to tidy vs. extreme euphoria?” a question with so many possibilities gets;
“No thanks hard house makes me want to puke on myself.”
“Well we do have funky room?” earns,
“Yes but I’d rather nail my scrote to a piece of wood,” this one earns me a strange look as the girl walks off and mutters something about having a good night.
Obviously only 2 examples of annoying PR’s but these two, for whatever pathetic reasons really irritated me at the time.
Day 10 – Hippy market, Pacha Restaurant and Subliminal
Concerned that too many days weren’t getting used to their best potential we forced ourselves up at 11 and jumped in the car bound for Es Canar and the famous hippy market.
Now I have heard that this is the most commercial of the two and that Saturdays at Las Dias is more “authentic” and I am sure that it is now after visiting Es Canar. Set in the grounds of a hotel the winding paths are lined with stalls selling all kinds of goods.
Having experienced proper head shops I had really high expectation of the stalls, the good, the sellers and the market in general but it was all a tad disappointing. It was a market for tourists, state the obvious I know, aimed at tourists. For a start everything was well overpriced, comparable with the prices of boutiques in Ibiza town and the bartering was not flexible with unless it knock only 1 euro or so off the price. There were some stalls that really excited me and did sell unique, cool items and some that sold really nice clothes etc but they were few and far between compared to the excess of lucky lucky men stalls boasting the same fake designer gear you see all over the island or are offered on any beach. I also felt the “genuine” hippy’s were rip off merchants, charging 20€ for a CD of their drum playing. This said it was a nice morning wandering around the stalls, trying stuff on I had no intention of buying and taking photos. Just don’t visit this market expecting to find a host of bargains (I am sure there are some) or a load of hippy settlers scraping a living by selling their wares.
After a busy morning we had built up a severe hunger and so decided to have our one off full English. We find a gaff that boasts PG tips and real English bacon and take our seats for our 3.90€ super breakfast. I love and hate these places. I hate that they are all too common in resorts that cater to English tastes, I hate that people go abroad unwilling to try something new and scoff at foreign culture and tastes whilst more than willing to let their hosts cook them English food. I love the opportunity to watch these people though. It’s like your own personal episode of Trisha. It’s really shitty to do it but I can’t help laugh at these people, their lives just seem based around sheer aggression, it’s unbelievable. In return I can’t help but to try and fill in the story of their lives. The family is store were pure council estate. Two daughters in their 20’s with black kids, a mum that looked like she had the kids young, a few Birkenhead facelifts, hair sprayed fringes, lashing of Elizabeth Duke’s finest and so much shouting at the poor kids. If he doesn’t want to eat his beans love threatening to hit him won’t make him.
Disclaimer: I know everyone that likes fry ups and egg and chips for tea isn’t a chav/pikey etc etc.
Cala D’Hort
The boiling hot weather at Es Canar isn’t matched back in San An but determined to make the most of it we decided to head off to a beach and opt for Cala D’Hort.
We arrive at the cove for Cala D’Hort and struggle to park, but when we do, I do it in such a fashion as to leave a definite escape route, unlike some poor idiot, who is blocked in the grandest fashion I have ever seen, cliffs on the right, tree at the rear and car parallel on the left and then one blocking him in totally at the front.
Our second visit to this beach and we’re not impressed. Yes there are dramatic views of Es Vedra but the beach is rocky and the sand is well on its way to becoming like sunset stripe, full of cigarette butts to a disgusting level. We leave after 3 hours.
Pacha restaurant
A week previously I had nipped into the Pacha restaurant and booked a table for tonight. The plan being, as according to the rumour, that if you spend over 100€ they invite you into the club.
The crux of this is that between 2 our bill came to 152€, at no point did anyone mention going into the club, but after paying our bill we just walked into the club without any questioning from staff.
We arrived at a closed Pacha 30 minutes early for our 2300 table to find the restaurant probably around ¼ full. We were ushered to our table which was downstairs in the sushi bar. The décor was everything you would expect from Pacha. Palm trees lined the walls of a room that is a basically a covered terrace. In keeping with the Asian theme of the room is rustic furniture as well as Thai/Oriental ornaments.
Our table is in the corner, definitely not idea for a few reasons; the main being that we are right by the border planting and a light, a combination which means lots of Mosquitoes and plenty of bites for Michelle.
The meal was of an excellent standard slightly let down by the service. There was a couple of waiting staff that were bubbly and friendly but let down by a couple that were, although professional, lacked a smile, and seemed bored and uninterested… they all probably were but its whether you show it.
After 15 minutes of reading the menu we finally get the opportunity to order and a really nice waitress brings over our wine, a lovely bottle of Chardonnay and a plate with 2 small aperitifs. A halved date stuffed with blue cheese awaits my palate. Dear god. This was the strongest blue cheese I have ever tasted, I like cheese but this was disgusting. I may as well have taken a bite out of a turd. So I am there with this whole thing in my mouth struggling to chew and trying to repress throwing up for a second time in the most beautiful club in the world and I see Shell looking at hers. I know she isn’t a fan of strong cheese.
“What’s it like?”
I want to say, “Don’t eat it, it’s disgusting,” but my mouth is so full and I don’t really want to move this horrid bolus more than I have to. I mutter a noise of some form. Shell takes a small bite. The look on her face is a picture but her small taster almost gone all she has left to do is swig some water and end this experience. I am struggling. I know I can’t spit this out it must be swallowed. Gulp. YES it’s gone!!! Ah f*** no, it’s stuck in my throat and I’m going to throw up. Relief. It’s gone. All that remains is an intense shitty taste in my mouth akin to what I imagine brushing your teeth with shit must be like. One of those funny moments when you’re glad you’re just with your long term partner and not on a first date or with a huge group of friends.
With that little nightmare over we await the rest of our meal. In due time the starters arrive, a shellfish filled pasta in leek sauce for myself, with really is awesome and a warm king prawn salad for Michelle, some huge prawns char grilled with a lovely dressing which had definite flavours of soy sauce, balsamic and fruits.
A 40 minute wait between courses awaited us, which was fine as we were in no rush, were enjoying an excellent bottle of wine and also didn’t want to be the first people in the club.
Eventually our main courses arrive; a leg of suckling lamb for me served with crisped potatoes which was good but definitely surpassed by Michelle’s choice of Sea Bream with garlic and onion rings.
After we finish our main courses there is another 10 minute wait for the dessert menu and then a 20 minute wait for them to arrive. Well worth the wait, for what was probably the nicest dessert of the holiday, a peach and strawberry farandole for me and a white choc mousse with passion fruit sorbet for Shell. A coffee and a couple of drinks make up the rest of our bill.
The bill finally arrives after a long wait to catch someone’s attention and then a for it to be brought to us and by 2am after a might 3.5 hours we are ready to go into the club. Uninvited by any staff we are anxious as to whether we’ll get collared on our way in, but we don’t and we get into a club which is filling nicely.
Thought some of your comments were a tad on the harsh side but your honesty is good 
