Dr Fox.....it's a diary thing, it's a soul thing

Dr Fox

New Member
Monday 11th August 2003-09-01

The Squadron turned up at chez moi around 3.15 pm, annoyingly taking me away from my beloved Ibiza-Spotlight website (Rob/James see how I did that, big upped your site without even a hint of cheesiness – I take all major credit cards for future reference by the way), which in hindsight was probably a good thing as looking back at the posts….what the fook was I on?? :eek: I was spouting some serious shite that weekend, ok more than normal but hey I was on the verge of my 2nd Ibiza adventure and I was one loaded spring ready for take off :twisted: . I had an excuse I guess. What had seemed like an eternity away was looming ever closer…. we’d booked it, packed it and we were ready to fcuk off. I was determined to better last years trip.
The problem with holidays, if you can call it a problem, is that it never actually feels like you’re on it until you are on the plane…..it’s a kind of surreal feeling I find. This was how I was feeling when the first pilots turned up….cue 1 Rose Jnr and 1 Doogalbug. Rose Jnr had brought his mobile wardrobe; dishwasher, cooker, fridge freezer and kitchen sink in a suitcase the size of an average 2-bed bungalow. Had he brought a chicken suit especially for the occasion? :confused: Only he knows.
The other Squadron members soon followed – Trouble, BeerMatt (on time which in itself is a feat not to be sniffed at as this boy would be late for his own birth, wedding and funeral given the chance) and the Crane. The weather was stonking in Manchester that day, in fact the minibus journey to Ringway airport could be classed as a forerunner for the sweatbox which was to be our home for the following 10 nights. On arrival at the airport we headed for the pub in Terminal 2 where the Dublin carnage had begun. BeerMatt and myself nailed a casual black rascal (Guinness) apiece, which as the Crane rightly pointed out, tasted like sawdust. :( Doogie Cam made it’s first appearance for the occasion as we rang all our mates who weren’t going and were still at work. Evil I know :twisted: . The Brain, who was originally travelling for the whole nine yards, had recently bowed out due to his future wife inflicting pressure last seen in Star Trek in the form of the Vulcan Death Grip, to his heart strings, as they are due to be married next Saturday and she felt it was a tad excessive to be living it up when there was so much to organise. Like most men, he buckled like a deck chair sat on by Pavarotti and agreed to only come for the last 4/5 days…..this was 100% a great idea now we have witnessed the state he managed to get himself into, in such a short space of time. Anyway, we all spoke to him and basically took the piss out of him….oh and you wouldn’t? :p
We sank some more ales once through the arse clinching experience know as the metal detector, at the main bar. Even managed to sneak off for a weasely Smirnoff Ice just before we were ready to board. The flight was a dream although I’m sure the pilot barrel rolled at one point. Perhaps he was bored… nobody likes a show off mister especially my bowel :lol: . I love that when you arrive in Ibiza they always hand out those free brochures at the airport as it really gets the old mind racing and feet tingling when you flick through the club advertisements. With Michael Schumacher driving our bus around some frighteningly narrow lanes we finally made it to the Fiesta Palymras appts in one piece…….We all ambled in to meet the now infamous Grouch brother numero uno. No sooner had we stepped in the foyer, El Groucho was dishing out the law and giving us our first warning. Take a chill pill Groucho and give us the keys to the room you Muppet. The Hex brothers (the Crane and Dr Fox) were on fire. Room 108, our new abode was hotter than, a hot thing in a very hot place. Not only that, Lake Zurich was emanating from the fridge all over the floor. A great start. Got changed quicker than Superman with a case of the trots and moseyed on down to our new local, the one and only Bar M. Casual. The tunes were smoking, so much so that I considered dousing the DJ with a bottle of water, as he was becoming a fire hazard! I don’t know about you but when I get to Ibiza I have this feeling of being truly at home, it’s a strange sensation, unlike any other I’ve felt in any other destination I’ve been to. As time was getting on we had to hike swiftly to Mambo in order to get the tickets in for Pacha. Del Fox wheeled and dealed with the resident ticket seller and managed to get them for around 28 Euros. Result. A taxi ride later and we were outside Pacha. Making our way to the first bar, accompanied by the amazing tune that is Lee Cabrera’s Shake it, I had Ice Cube’s line “Today was a good day” ringing in my ears.
Roger was spinning stuff that you could only dream of, basically a replica of the Release Yourself cd’s and he played to the crowd as if his life depended on it. Unlike last year, we had a tour of the place and even made it to the terrace for a quick breather. Spoke to some lovely Deutsche girls before returning to Roger in the main room all sweat-Foxed up. A trip to the hand dryer in the bogs would become a ritual performed several hundred times over the course of the holiday. If you saw somebody drying their clothes in the gents, it would invariably be me. I have to say, it was one of the best sets I’ve ever had the pleasure to witness and if you are visiting Pacha this season, you have to see Roger….it’s as simple as that. The crowd was varied and there appeared to be a lot more Spanish than last year, which didn’t bother me, as everyone seemed up for it. In fact anybody who says that dance is dead wants to go along to this night and see the place rammed to the rafters with funk loving disciples, oh and just make sure I'm there so I can give you a right good beatch slapping too ;) . The sound system this year seems to have improved too, crisp bass without the slightest hint of distortion, definitely not out of a Vauxhall Nova that's for sure. The Fox had certainly come home. It had been a long slog and the Squadron called it a day at 7am with Mr Sanchez still firing them off as we left the building. The taxi situation hadn’t improved on 2002 and it took an age before we were able to flag one down :( …..What a night, what a start and what a holiday this was proving to be already. Could it be bettered? You betcha!!
:D :D :D
I can picture myself there with what you've wrote, look forward to the next part!!!! Dont keep us hanging on too long! :D
As the Carlsberg said 'Worth waiting for'. Typed liked urban poetry, you are The Streets. Put a beat to that review and you'll make a million. Seriously, class as expected my man. I feel the same anticipation as I did walking into The Phantom Menace, as I do waiting for Episode 2 of The Fox Review but you won't be a let down like the Lucas chap.
:eek: my words can not explain how good that review is but, your words explained it with ease... top class fella :D
bring on the rest ;)
Believe you me S Express when he dropped eSamba and Clocks towards the end I thought the crowd was going into orbit.....my Pumas got some punishment that night I can tell you. :D
Tuesday 12th August 2003

After a gruelling night at Pacha :rolleyes: , I slept like a daytime Vampire and negated to remove my contacts….not good :eek: . When I finally Axel Rose at around 10 am ish, my eyes looked as though I’d stuck my head in a cocktail bowl full of bleach and vinegar, obviously I’d had roughly a couple of hours sleep too, which didn’t help matters. Add the fact that room 108 was at gas mark 7 during the night, I had considered sleeping on a lilo due to the amount of sweat I’d shed, I was not the fittest of soldiers. Not to worry, dragged myself and the rest of the troops out for a full English breakfast at the local eatery…..forgive me but I cannot recall the name of the joint even though I ate their most mornings :confused: . Needless to say, I usually turned up their with little sleep and the bells of Notre Dame ringing around my temples – a mixture of Vodka, lager and bass spins can have that effect on even the most hardened clubber. The service from this little pub, next to the Secret Garden strip joint (don’t ask me why I have no problem remembering that establishments name….I really haven’t a clue!) ;) , was impeccable. Always cheery, fine grub, excellent value and always arriving on time, you couldn’t ask for more. I heartily recommend the Special breakfast available until 2pm – 2 sausages, Danish bacon, eggs, tomato and baked beans, to anybody who needs a morning pick me up. Especially when it cost a little more than a 10p mix. I had visions of the treadmill and exercise bike running through my mind constantly that week, a sense of guilt with every mouthful. If you want to dance like James Brown with a firecracker up your arse, you need energy and the Special definitely delivered in that department.

Spent best part of the day slobbing around the Fiesta Palymras appts pool checking out the local sights. :D The pool itself is wonderfully cold and just the right height for me (6 ft 2) for standing up….the perfect tonic for the heat, which was remarkably hot. I’d heard that record heat had been recorded this year but I didn’t expect it to be this stifling. I’m a lively Fox at heart but I was rendered slower than your average geriatric on the middle lane of a motorway, with this weather. I was loving it. 2 girls flogging Eden tickets for Clockwork Orange tried to barter us into a corner. We had this planned in our itinerary anyway so I reckoned I could haggle cheaper tickets elsewhere. Certain members of the Squadron took a shine to both of them and agreed to meet them later at Bar M. They would be easily identifiable…..orange hot pants were mentioned :eek: . Tonight was going to be the night I was to see a living legend, a real hero of mine in the mid 90s…..1 Jeremy Healy. Let the good times roll. As we were in fine spirits, at 3 O’clock, we all agreed to try some of the local brew – Campo, or as we called them Ivans. Now this in essence doesn’t sound to drastic but add a little spice in the form of a Milligan, Spike to you and I and the frolics soon turned to carnage. 1 drink of the 6 contained a Milligan and apart from whoever’s round it was so the other 5 was a complete lottery. By 6ish we were well and truly oiled, what better way to celebrate but participate in a round of crazy golf next to the appts. BeerMatt, notoriously the worst mini golf player in the history of the sport was firing on all cylinders, obviously fuelled by Ivan power or could it be that the rest of us had vision, Stevie Wonder would have been proud of. He won :( . Former World’s Number 1, moi, came runner up. Bastard.

After eating tea at the same pub, we purchased the customary Smirnoff n orange and nailed the lot. I couldn’t stand the heat of our room any longer so I put on a vest and headed for Bar M. What a great move, after losing 8 stone in sweat in Pacha, the vest was a lifesaver. Sank a few more cheeky Miguels to the sounds of Solitaire’s I like Love banging out not to mention Bar M’s current anthem Praised Cats – Shined on Me. Next stop, one of last year’s quality finds – Savannah’s funky lounge. This year, it didn’t disappoint…..Lil Louie Vega nonetheless was giving it some on the decks accompanied by the regulation bongo player :lol: . Allegedly I asked Louie if I could borrow his bongo under the preface that I’d bring them back the following night. He declined this once in a lifetime offer apparently :cry: . Chatted with a charming American girl, if that was you I’m sorry for my usually impeccable conduct, but I’d been Milliganed and probably made no sense whatsoever. The tunes were once again flowing like fine wine, Louie doing what he does best,always one step ahead of the crowd. Savannah was packed like I’d never seen, which considering it’s size is not hard to do but it’s this feature what sets it apart……intimacy Ibiza style. Considering that the music was ablaze, little did I know that my wingman had nipped off to Eden without me, lured by a certain set of orange hot pants no doubt? I was not impressed as by the time I noticed he’d vanished it was pointless to go to Eden. Trudged home, ate a hot dog, got propositioned by a prostitute who looked like the rear of a bus involved in a serious road traffic accident and passed out in the chill out lair of the Bay Bar - our appts excellent bar. This was after I’d try to light a cig with around 80 matches…I don’t even smoke :oops: !!! Apparently, I was discovered by a waitress a few hours later, under a man made pyramid of Swan Vestas :!: . Made it to the room and passed out on the balcony gutted I’d missed one legend but ecstatic I’d witnessed another. Gravy. 8)
I think I love you ....

You've made me smile so much this morning ;) Mwah !
this is SUPERB
i love the serialisation (sp?)
bring on the next episode
James, Stephen you guys should get all the best reviews from the summer and publish a book called "Summer 2003 Ibiza the truth" or something like that
Dr (Sir) Fox you are cheering up a particularily dull week for me
excellent excellent excellent.....use of such big words an Essex girl doesn't really understand, but understand it totally :D
People...I'm touched....you have to bear in mind that that a lot of content has been droped due to legal reasons :lol: and the names have been changed to protect the not so innocent. I, myself have a conscience cleaner than OJ Simpson.
hehe that is so funny!!! Shined on me has got to be one of my Fave tunes at the mo too so i'll be hangin about Bar M jus to have a listen
Wednesday 13th August 2003

After enduring another night of being a human sweatball I’d had enough. We had 2 ceiling fans in room 108 one in the lounge and one in the bedroom but to be honest I’ve felt more wind from a baby’s arse, absolute cack :evil: . Doogie and myself hired a fan each from El Groucho numero Dos..... what an a-hole he is as well. He does this really annoying roll of the top lip under his Basil Fawlty moustache…I can’t express how annoying it is….think nails scraped down blackboard, not even close…..sand in your underpants, nowhere near…..Victoria Beckham….now yer talking but worse. Anyway, the fans were marginally better in that you couldn’t move an inch away from them before the waterfall begun. To give you an idea of how hot the room was, the bathroom with no windows and a low-slung ceiling with roof light was a national disgrace. No sooner had you laced your toothbrush with toothpaste, you looked as though you’d been taking a shower :( . Satan knocked on to use our cr@pper one day…he left after 5 seconds complaining of the radiation he was suffering.
This was not the best condition to commence the blowing up of my lilo. Now, my lilo is no ordinary lilo….it’s the Rolls Royce of the lilo fraternity in fact when it is totally inflated it resembles a jumbo jet….hence the nickname of Air Force 1 it acquired. The pillow section blows up to sizes beyond compare, which is very hazardous when travelling to the beach…especially for the general public. 1 minute your eating your lovely pasta, the next minute you are wearing said pasta like a face pack….Air Force 1 has landed in your area. We also had no foot pump so the Jagger lips were throbbing by the time we’d inflated our water chariots :oops: . Took the stereo to the beach in front of Bay Bar, literally a stones throw away. Set up base camp and recreated our own Bora Bora for the amassing crowds. When the batteries finally ran out and the sun had picked up the pace with it’s race, this soldier decided it was time to get his water wings out. I have now realised that it is not a good idea to get lubed up with suntan oil before attempting to mount your lilo. Cue Steve Irwin type crocodile wrestling and much flapping of salt water into eyes. It was like a slippery eel in a tub of lard – all over the place. I eventually got aboard and some girls commented on how fantastic Air Force 1 was…..damn right it is ladies, but it takes years of practice to make a lilo look this good hahahaha 8) :D . Trouble, Crane, BeerMatt, Doogal and myself sailed out to the rope of buoys just a few feet from all the yachts and anchored up for the day.

The drinking began at 3pm, Ivan hour, and I was taking some flak about my drinking prowess. Milligan was on the prowl all afternoon. 34 Euros later the young guns (i.e. not me) had their hats truly nailed on and bodies were scattered on the cushions in the chill out section of Bay Bar. The Doc rests his case. ;)
Got back to the apartment and boarded the good ship Vodka/Orange….it’s an enjoyable journey and it definitely gets you where you want to go. We were all funked to say the least. I’d planned for Soul Heaven that night at Pin Up but the rest weren’t so sure. After mini golf, we hotfooted it over to Mambo to catch the sunset. The beach was heaving with people. An MTV party turned up from Coastline…..covered in blue n silver body paint, jubblies on parade and bringing with them a lone bloke to keep an eye on them. Rose Jnr was more than impressed, as were most of the male population on the beach. Gravy. The sunset itself was dramatic and slid down the skyline to the sounds of Elton John’s Rocket Man….a shiver went up my spine and I had goose pimples galore. An experience that gets better every time I witness it. As the sun finally slipped out of sight, the packed sardines clapped like sea lions. I enjoy the sunset with the best of them but clapping? C’mon don’t clap the sun for setting, it’s not as though it hasn’t done it before – it’s had plenty of practise believe me. :confused:
Ambled round to Coastline for the first time and I have to say I was impressed….very classy. In the pool was a crazy ball juggler and then the MTV party turned up again..Wahay they all danced in the pool.....filth, pure filth :eek: . After a swift Sol we marched over to Kanya to meet Tom…the cheap ticket seller off Spotlight. A young girl tout came over and was clearly flying on a different plant than us. When I asked her if she new Tom, she said she’d never heard of him…made me look a complete top hat in front of my mates. Nailed an Ivan to soften the blow. Tom you bastard where were you? :evil: On the walk home asked a girl outside Bar M if there was any funky house on. Nope.

Basically we ended up at Eden after I haggled with a geek in the bar next door. Got him down to 25 Euro for Lashed and made sure we didn’t have to queue. The guys reckoned they saw Ray of Big Brother fame surrounded by a bevy of beauties outside. What has the world come to? Made our way straight into the Funky room, Leeroy from the Prodigy was on the wheels of steel and to be fair I found him to be shite. It was all break beat with no funk. Sorry Leeroy I’m a Prod nut but this was not the best. Just not my taste I guess. Highlight of the night was one nameless Squadron member who was on blue rascal power was experiencing some strange visions so much so that it culminated in him trying to drink from a glass of straws on the bar top…the bar man was less than impressed and snatched it off him :lol: . The main room were Lisa Lashes was banging was harder than a morning stiffy and I couldn’t stand it. I can’t believe the youth of today listen to that crap, it’s got no soul. Left around 7ish for some seriously needed shut eye. I have to say I did approve of the Lashed flyer girls who wore the best skimpy outfits I’ve ever had the pleasure to see….the standard of fillies was breathtaking. I slept well that night.
Fox lurv your style and the way you are stringing us along with instalments
wish i had done mine in instalments now
ya know i couldnt sleep so actually got outa bed to see if the Doc had done day three
and he had
nice one dude