From 1992 to 2002 me, my Mum, my sister, and my Dad (sadly no longer with us), went to a little Greek island every year with only one exception.
Around 2000 when I first became obsessed with dance music, I read about Ibiza and always assumed it was the same island paradise, just with the added bonus of the DJs and music I liked. Took forever to get there, largely due to mates who weren't in the least bit interested (going to the local pub was a chore most of the time). Finally went in 2013.
As it got closer I had a word with myself. I reminded myself that it probably wouldn't be childhood/teenage dream. Never meet your heroes and all that. I accepted the fact it might be a bit of a shit-hole, too many chavs, too expensive, just not what I'd hoped for. As it happened, it was everything I'd hoped, and much more.
I'd often joked that nothing would quite replicate those family holidays, but Ibiza somehow does. It feels like home. My sister has since been and despite being a bit stand-offish with most of my theories a lot of the time (normally with good reason), it was one of the few occasions she totally agreed with me. I've taken mates, most recently a friend who isn't even interested in dance music, and they've been blown away. They understand what I mean now when I say "you can never really tell anyone what Ibiza is like, because it just sounds like you're exaggerating and lying". Planning on taking my Mum for a week around April before the season starts, and I know she'll love it. She can't go back the place we used to go on holiday due to being disabled now, but fortunately a lot of Ibiza is disabled-friendly. Sadly can never take my Dad, but he's with me in spirit the whole time. He loved my stories of my work out there over the past few years, and always encouraged me to make a season out of it.
