Secret Life of an Ibiza Worker

wednesday23

Active Member
Hi Everyone!

So some of you more long time forum members may remember me from around 5 years ago!

I was a regular poster, did a few years holidays in Ibiza, before a few seasons in Ibiza and then moving there (for what should have been!) for good.

I also posted a story (true to life!) about my experiences in Ibiza. due to personal reasons at the time, I deleted the story about half way to conclusion.

When I logged on today after 5 years absence, it was great to see quite a few messages asking about the story. If people are interested I can repost including the conclusion?

Wednesday x
 

wednesday23

Active Member
Ok so four people care, I'll start to repost a chapter daily (give me chance to polish the second half I never posted!0
 

wednesday23

Active Member
The Background
So I guess a little background as to why I decided to do a season in Ibiza…. Everybody always says that an Ibiza worker is running away from something, a failed relationship, family problems, drug problems (ironic I know!), failing university, struggling to get a job in the UK etc and in a sense that is true. I did my first season in 2011 after a failed serious relationship, a drastic move to a new city and starting a job that I hated. I didn’t know who I was anymore or what I wanted to do. A new life where nobody knew me seemed to be a great idea; and it turned out to be an incredible season. The problem with doing a season in Ibiza is its addictive! So when the 2012 season started to come round I was already having itchy feet, then I lost my job due to a pre-existing heart problem and my mind was made up. After convincing my family I wasn’t going to die, and promising that this would be my last season in Ibiza I booked a one way ticket and started to dream about what this season hold!
 

wednesday23

Active Member
The Adventure Begins
I agreed to travel out with two friends from last year, one planned to live with me and do the whole season with me , and the other was coming for a few weeks to sort out some photography work before coming back later in the season, Brett. We all met at Birmingham airport and I was ecstatic! I hadn’t seen Ellie since I left her last summer, when we were really close, so we had a lot to catch up on! Brett had been staying with me in Manchester a week before for my leaving party, so he basically spent the whole time laughing at my drunken exploits from the week before.
When we landed in Ibiza if felt incredible. The drive from the airport, the billboards, even the smell of the air; it just felt like home! I felt in such a rush to get to our temporary hotel, and then I could get straight out and see who was about! I already knew about 15-20 of my friends from the year before would be back and it was just a matter of hunting out where they would be! Any ideas of taking it easy the first week whilst I got myself sorted went out the window and I got incredibly drunk! A gram of K was acquired from somewhere (I really don’t know where so it probably wasn’t needed!) and I became a bit of a mess! I remember very little of this night but do know that I went up to an old boss from last year and DEMANDED a job (PR’s need to be forward right??). He didn’t need anyone but the man who owns the bar did at his other bar further up the strip, so a job trial was booked in for a few days’ time! Result after only a few hours of being there! Unfortunately I think this good fortune convinced me that I should begin early celebrations on my new job (I was always going to get it after all)….my lasting memory of the night is struggling to stand and watch a magic trick off my friend, Ryan a magician and then staggering round a corner to curl up on the floor. Perfect signal for Ellie and Ryan to walk / carry me home and a very messy first night came to an end!
 

wednesday23

Active Member
Base Camp
One of the major headaches we had when first arriving was having a very limited time frame to find somewhere to live. We had an initial hotel booked for 3 days but desperately needed to find somewhere permanent after that then we didn’t eat into what very limited money we took out with us. Me and Ellie had around 600 euros each which is literally the bare minimum you could move to Ibiza with. Finding somewhere in Ibiza to live is relatively easy, and most people head straight to the Ship Inn to see who else is advertising for housemates. In the end that’s exactly what we did and sent a text to three guys looking for two more to join them in Azul Apartments.
Meeting the guys I was a little anxious, I know so many people from my first season who ended up getting arrested for living with drug dealers or who had all of their things stolen, so I was kind of happy that I had Ellie at least who I knew and trusted. In the end when we arrived at the Ship for a drink with the guys, only two of them had already arrived. We soon found out they were Latvian and were polite, very gentlemanly and well rather hot! (let’s call them Andris & Juris) Soon after the third guy, who was British arrived who had been delayed because he just ‘had’ to stop for a 2euro pint on his way home from work as a chef – my first thought, my kind of guy! We were all soon chatting away and decided it would definitely be something that would work. We viewed the apartment and it was basic but just what we needed. Me and Ellie would share the small room, Juris and Andris in a second bedroom and the third guy, Tony would have the sofa bed in the lounge. We arranged to text the boys tomorrow to sort out the deposits with the landlord and went home to chill for the rest of the evening.
Next day we decided to try and sort out our deposits before anything else. Well this started the day in exactly the wrong way! We realised we just didn’t have enough money – oops, so off we went to beg the landlord to give us a week to come up with the second half of the money. Smiles plastered on our faces, bikini tops at the ready, we hoped the new landlord would be sympathetic… after greeting us with the compulsory two kisses and a hug we hoped that this would swing in our favour (who wouldn’t want to give two girls a helping hand?); in the end it half did, we were given three days to get the rest of the money but could move in today. Our new housemates Andris, Juris and Tony decided to be the perfect gentleman and carry our ridiculous 25kg luggage up the stairs and straight away whipped open a bottle of the finest 6.95euro vodka. This became a running theme for the next few weeks of our stay with them. Apparently Latvians love vodka – who would have known!
Three of us had job trials arranged for the evening but after a few too many getting to know you vodkas this went out of the window. We decided to sack off our job trials and hit the west end! This night we pretty much bar crawled the entire strip, not something that is normally top of my agenda, but with some new friends to get to know it seemed pretty perfect. The vodkas certainly loosened us all up and my lasting memory is receiving a piggy back home before collapsing into my new bed for the first time surrounded by clothes thrown everywhere and suitcases covering the floor. Unpacking could certainly wait for another day!
 

wednesday23

Active Member
The Very First Morning
Has anyone ever moved somewhere new and woken up thinking ‘Where the hell am I?’ Well that is exactly what happened to me the very first morning. I woke to a start to someone shouting ‘Vodka?’ (Insert amazing Latvian accent here!) and waving a glass of straight vodka under my nose…I stagger blindly to the sitting room wearing only my knickers (definitely had forgotten I had just moved in with strangers!), rub my eyes to suddenly realise there is a room full of stranger s dancing in the living room… I look to my right to see a guy in a cow suit, to my left a girl wearing a rubber ring…where the hell am I? Looking up I see a vodka and coke being thrust under my nose. ‘Vodka?’ I think to myself why the hell not! Over the next few hours various people join this impromptu party and I learn these crazy people are actually my new neighbours…bonding over breakfast vodka we build a bond that will eventually become family. After an hour or two (and numerous noise complaints from the landlord) we move the party to the swimming pool; if I’m awake at 11am we may as well see the sun. Approaching the pool we meet some more of our new worker neighbours. I find out that pretty much 95% of them have never been to Ibiza before, definitely never worked here before and some believe it or not have never done drugs before! This is the great thing about Ibiza for those considering a season. There are so many people in the same ‘1st Timer’ boat, and although some will lead you to believe otherwise, there’s always people who have done it before who will answer questions and throw you in the right direction of available jobs. I find myself spending the next few hours giving extremely drunken advice! (I’d advise anyone to meet me in future to ignore 90% of this!)
This turns into a day of many first for some, and for the more seasoned of us, a day of massive indulgence. After getting kicked out of the pool after a few hours for generally being disruptive, noisy and lacking any kind of judgement in terms of pool safety we move the party to the beach! The beach turns into a ‘lets drown the cow’ party, before we all decide if we’re going to make it out this night we really need a nap. Off we traipse to the apartments where I figure out I’ve left the apartment with only a bikini on and no key or phone…Luckily my new neighbours lend me their sofa were I collapse in a rather attractive state on the sofa thinking that if this is what every day is going to be like, I may need a new liver (among other things) by the end of the season!
 

Crawleytown

Active Member
Good read! Often thought I would love to read a ‘secret life of an Ibiza spotlight correspondent’ feature on the spotlight website too.
 

wednesday23

Active Member
Es Paradis Opening Party
So after a heavy few days I was feeling the effects but still loving being back in what to me now is home! Getting up, seeing the sunshine, smelling the rotten alcohol breathe and stale smoke coming from the boys, it just felt perfect. I’d spent the last few days seeing some familiar faces from the year before and getting close to some new. The crowd in our apartments were all pretty cool and so on the night of Es Paradis opening I decided to go with them despite being very skint and well putting it bluntly having always hated Es Paradis.
Now I don’t know about anyone else who visits Ibiza but I’ve never been one to dress up to go clubbing in Ibiza. So when 30 minutes before we were due to leave someone asked me why I wasn’t ready (quite insulting to think about it now) I was like ‘arghhh’. All the girls were looking gorgeous in dresses and heels and so I decided I should quickly throw something together. Unfortunately this meant I had no time to go and acquire any supplements to help me through the evening…It’ll be fine, I thought, hoped…it’s easy peasy to find a pharmacist in an Ibiza club…well this would be the downfall of my night!
We arrived at the club and I was pleasantly surprised by both the levels of the crowd and the general atmosphere…previous trips to Es Paradis had involved some of the lets say ‘less clubby’ clubbers but this looked like it could be a promising night! I suppose this is probably the difference between the openings and normal nights, but I’d never done openings before so this instantly put me in a cheery mood! After having a little scout around me and two of the girls decided to break free and hunt for the pharmacist. As soon as we decided to do this the club seemed to instantly fill up and moving around seemed an effort, after 30minutes of looking I was getting annoyed. I wanted to dance and enjoy myself, but I also needed some help to do so after a few too many heavy nights…eventually we found a sympathetic guy in the smoking area who sold us some of his unmeasured capsules he had prepared without the intention to sell…lucky dip you might say. Well in I dipped and within 30 minutes I was a state. We were dancing on a podium with the other two girls who had obviously dipped badly trying to catch me every two minutes…still I was loving it. The music, although very mainstream and ‘charty’ was entertaining as were all the additional acts. It’s at this point my memory goes a little hazy…it felt to me as if we had been in there for around 2 hours, but my friends tell me it’s now 5am and I get the impression they feel like I am being a bit of a handful. Then without a seconds notice I proceed to fall off the podium onto the poor people’s heads around me…embarrassed? Not In my state but the two poor girls I’d known only a week or so where! In steps the lovable yet extremely mental guy from the cow suit, (I now know he’s from New Zealand and called Jack) and I’m being marched home.
I arrive home to bed to find Ellie reading a book in bed, looks like she has finally stopped her three day bender. I tell her how good the night has been and decided to have a quick catch up with friends back home on Facebook to gloat about my brilliant night before bed. And this is where this will become one of those nights that I just won’t really forget, and for all the wrong reasons.
Mr previous year in Ibiza I had worked at a bar called the Ok Corral for an absolutely amazing English gentleman called Rick, which for those of you who ever frequented the OK, you will know this is really not an overstatement. Rick made me feel like family, and well the OK was most definitely home. When I checked my Facebook that night I had a message off Rick’s son to tell me that sadly he had passed away earlier that day. My stomach dropped, I heaved and I’m not ashamed to say I burst into tears. From utter ecstacy to utter heartbreak in the space of a few seconds.
As I lay in bed that night, now unable to sleep I thought about many things. Ibiza to me had seemed like a fairy-tale land before this, not somewhere that someone could die, or really where you could even grow old. A neverneverland almost, (and if you meet some of my older PR friends they would insist this is actually true!). I thought about the stories Rick had told me, of his first few years in Ibiza, how they had changed his life, and how eventually they had made Ibiza his life. He brought up his family there, ran his business for over 30 years and was surrounded by his lifelong friends. It made me more determined than ever to make this season in Ibiza amazing. To live it to its full potential and do the things that truly made me happy – meet incredible people from all walks of life, of all ages; enjoy incredible music and the atmospheres that accompany it; and see more of the beautiful beautiful island. Although I fell asleep incredibly sad that night, I slept content, as I knew Rick was now at rest and also that the difference he had on my life after that first season I worked for him, would be remembered forever.
 

wednesday23

Active Member
The Re-Trial
So after an emotional rollercoaster of a few days I decided if I wanted to stay the entire season I should get off my moping bum and find myself a job. I managed to survive the daytime with only touching a few pints of beer, this is quite important as you don’t want to go job hunting sozzled, but you also want to show you’re outgoing, so if you’re feeling out of your PR comfort zone after 6 months off a few drinks can do wonders for Dutch courage.
I started at the bottom of the West End at around 10pm (best time to get the bar managers who have just started work before it gets too busy) and crawled all the way to the top stopping in every bar. Some bars ask for CVs but I always find it easier speaking face to face with the right person. Unsurprisingly a lot of it is done of how they think you look, and how much cheek you have got. If you’ve got confidence in bucket loads and are willing to stand out a little then they will more than likely give you go. (although unfortunately a lot of the time it is an unpaid trial – which there seemed to be way too many of this year compared to last, some bars to be left unnamed trialled a new person every day for 2 weeks that = two weeks of free labour!!!!)
I was approaching the top of the West End when a bar man for one of the bars grabbed my arm and asked me if I was looking for work; I think the going in and out of every bar gave it away. Now you would think this would be my lucky day, hand-picked from the street to start straight away, well unfortunately not. It just happened that he worked at the bar that I had foolishly not bothered to turn up to my trial at a few days earlier, and before I could stop him he had dragged me in to meet the manager… and yes…he remembered me!! After a little smiling and multiple apologies he decided to give me another trial starting tomorrow. Phew, off I strolled home to get an early night, or not. I ended up in the Ship Inn till 6am and then sat on Kanya beach till midday…but well that’s not much of a story just a typical Ibiza night!
Next day I arrived for my trial in well, as little clothing as possible. I needed to impress and get as many people in as possible…People to a female PR generally means men, and as little clothes as possible generally means more men. I was working that night with another male PR, called Joseph who had been working at the bar for a few years now. It was nice having some company and it turns out he knew Ellie fairly well so we had quite a few mutual friends. We had a laugh and a joke that night and despite being on a 3 drink maximum allowance the night still went fairly well. The bar was one of the fullest on the West End and had a great atmosphere all night.
Joseph actually kept me in stitches all night, as he was constantly carrying a Bible round with him. At first I thought this was some kind of ploy to get potential customers talking and into the bar, but it actually turns out that he was a 'born again' Christian, and through getting to know Ibiza 247, a religious group who help tourists out who get a little worse for wear, he had begun studying the bible. Every time there was a lull of activity he would whip the bible out, and read a passage to me. The whole 'Born Again Christian' persona, seemed at odds with the 'Happy, Drunk PR' job, but he got twice as many customers in as me, so who was I to judge!
At the end of the night I went to speak to the manager feeling confident. In my mind the night had been a perfect success…and then it suddenly wasn’t. For some unbeknownst reason he told me I had to come back and trial again because he wasn’t sure. I asked him if this would be paid. He said no. I told him he was being unreasonable. He told me I was being rude. I told him I was being open. He told me fair enough he would pay me for the next trial. I told him I would actually turn up then. He didn’t look happy but I was. My next trial was in 2 days’ time so I decided to try and take it easy for a few days. I was burnt out and I really wanted a tan so I surprised everyone, including myself and went straight home from work to find the boys chilling on the balcony with a joint. A cold beer was consumed, a joint smoked and off to sleep for my first and most likely only early night of the season
 

TazLondon

Active Member
Hi Everyone!

So some of you more long time forum members may remember me from around 5 years ago!

I was a regular poster, did a few years holidays in Ibiza, before a few seasons in Ibiza and then moving there (for what should have been!) for good.

I also posted a story (true to life!) about my experiences in Ibiza. due to personal reasons at the time, I deleted the story about half way to conclusion.

When I logged on today after 5 years absence, it was great to see quite a few messages asking about the story. If people are interested I can repost including the conclusion?

Wednesday x
Yes please.
 

wednesday23

Active Member
The Bouncy Egg

Waking up feeling surprisingly refreshed the next day I felt happy. Work was sorted and luckily all my money had come into my bank account so I could pay the landlord off before having to brainstorm how me and Ellie could pay him in kind (definitely joking!). Seeing as I was in such a chipper mood I decided to spread the love and pay the landlord off in full for myself and Ellie. She promised she would soon start work (she works freelance in the west end) so I knew I would soon have the money back. When I arrived back in at the apartment Ellie was delighted to have the weight lifted off her mind so we all decided to start planning Tony’s birthday party for the next day. He was feeling a little down; a mixture of missing things from home and being messed around with his job because he was struggling to get the right paperwork for his NIE together so it should be a special day for him to let his hair down! We decided a flat party with a mini buffet and cakes and presents would be sufficient, but as typical workers and in general anyone in Spain we decided to leave it till tomorrow, mañana mañana. (Which just happened to also be our landlords favourite phrase when it came to anything but paying the rent!)

Me and Ellie spent the rest of the day touring our favourite daytime haunts for drinks with people she had known for a few years. One of these was in the West End and over the last few days I had started to get quite close to the bar man. He liked how I often put my foot in it, with him taking what I said completely out of context. But even with all the laughter pointed my way I still found it very enjoyable to sit and chat with him in the bar, whilst he failed massively to do his crossword, and this would become my almost daily routine for the next five months. In fact I made a huge amount of great friends sitting in this bar enjoying a pint of the worst beer on draught ever, so I really can thank Ellie for taking me there and introducing me to him.

The next day we all woke up late so we had a bit of a mad dash to get ready for the party. Luckily Tony was out, (I think back again at the police station with his boss trying to sort out his NIE), so me and another friend decided to go to the nearby Chinese shop and see what decorations we could lay our hands out. For anybody who has never been in one of these Chinese shops and needs a random item whilst in Ibiza I would definitely advise it; they have literally every item known to man and that day we returned with happy birthday banners, streamers, some mickey mouse ears, an egg shaped bouncy ball and lollipop with a bubble gum in the middle. We also went to Erosci and stocked up on supplies for the buffet.

By the time we returned the party was in full swing and most people from the block were popping in and out. This open door policy set to continue for the rest of the season and probably can only be compared to halls in first year of university. It’s a great way to meet people though, and I’d advise anyone who did a season in Ibiza to do this. You meet some great people and really there isn't any reason why each and every one of them shouldn’t become a lifelong friend.

The rest of the day started to get very messy and one of my last memories is realising I had the second day of my job trial in only a few hours. At this point I was in absolutely no state to get ready, so luckily a friend stepped in and showered me and another chose my clothes and did my make up!

As I staggered to work that night I was gutted everyone else was still at the party, they were planning on heading to Mambos for the sunset shortly followed by drinks in the West End and it took all of my strength to not stay with them. But if you are going to last in Ibiza one of the bad things is that sometimes you have to miss the party for work. Although it seems like a 5 month holiday to those who meet workers, you do still have to work, and bloody long hours at that! Well luckily, in this case, I didn't! When I arrived at work that night the boss had double booked a trial and another girl (coincidentally from my block!) was already there working. He told me to come back the next day and well, due to the amount of alcohol I had consumed, I pretty much went crazy at him. After me letting off some steam he agreed that I would come back permanently and not on trial the next day. So off I skipped back to the party, with my tail wagging behind me.

When I got back to the party all hell had broken lose. Only in Ibiza can 30 minutes away from a party result in such chaos. Most people had headed towards the beach but those still at the flat told me that, as the most sober (I’d just about managed to half pass as ‘sober’ by now!), I had to speak to the landlord. Apparently while I had been gone the Bouncy Egg present we had bought Tony had been launched off the balcony into the road and the landlord had given us our first eviction notice after less than a week of living there! The egg had been a joke present as the previous day someone had thrown a real egg off the balcony and the landlord had gone mental. After failing to track the landlord down I decided to stop worrying about this responsibility and rejoin the party. The rest of the night got extremely messy and my next recollection is waking up on the balcony. It was the next afternoon and apparently Tony had been and cleared the air with the landlord. Phew, so under no threat of eviction we did what all self respecting workers would do and went and bought some beers and drank around the pool for the rest of the day!

When I went back to work the next day I was in full PR swing and all the usual PR lines started to flow out of me. My favourite of these was to tell every group of guys passing that it was my trial and I would get sacked if they didn’t sit down for a drink. And you would be amazingly surprised at how many times this worked!! One of these occasions I got chatting to one of the guys whilst they were sitting, he seemed like a really nice guy so when he left and asked for my number I thought why the hell not! It turns out they were also here for the season, but took pity on me by buying a drinks deal. His name was Alex, and the opposite of my normal tall, dark and handsome type. But with a cheeky grin, and Southern accent (I may be northern but have never been able to resist the southern accent), I couldn’t really say no! Could this be the start of a season long romance? What happened next there is a story for another day!
 

wednesday23

Active Member
Impressed you remember in so much detail given your alcohol intake! :lol:
I'm one of those people who are blessed with an extraordinary memory. I can remember precise details of events that happened when I was 3/4 years old to this day (I'm 30 now). It's sometimes a curse, as I also can't forget the embarrassing events of the night before the next day.
I've also significantly overhauled my life in the 7 years since the season I'm writing about, and no longer drink beer for breakfast and continue till 6-7AM.
 
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