What are the weirdest things you have ever seen in Ibiza?

EveyT said:
I seen a guy a few years ago clipping his nails outside the old DC10 portaloos.

Does anyone else take nail clippers out clubbing?
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Hahaha... f*** I love that!
"Hey buddy, my freakin' toes are hurting when I dance, my damn nails are too long... you do not happen to have... oh yeah, thanks!"

cilp... clip... clip...

:lol:
 
Not a particularly weird one from me but very Ibiza. Was at Enter. Main Room about 0530hrs with Hawtin in full flow and the dancefloor absolutely packed, uncomfortably so which caused a friend of mine (their first time in Ibiza) to grumble as fellow partygoers had to bump and shove their way past.

Then on came the cleaning lady pair, with their trolley, winding their way through the crowds to go about their business front and centre of the dancefloor. The look on my friend's face when they saw the ladies at the edge of the dancefloor and realised where they were headed, then the complete bafflement at what they were doing after, was priceless.
 
Stood on the then outdoor 'Space' terrace circa 97 and I saw an old hippy type woman dressed as 'Rule Britannia' with a long staff around 8ft long with a teddy bear tied to the end. In a trance like state she stood in one spot looking to the sky and twirled the shit out of the staff for what in the end was around 7 hours!
 
1996 David Copperfield and Claudia Schiffer were ment to be around the port area one night and there was great excitement aasyou can imagine:confused: but to cut a long story short 2 very drunk German guy were going around shouting ''Iam Seigfried, this is Roy look at me' all f***in night we could hear them eeverywhere. . Still laugh at it to this day.:)
 
djcadenza, post: 835913, member: 13306"]Stood on the then outdoor 'Space' terrace circa 97 and I saw an old hippy type woman dressed as 'Rule Britannia' with a long staff around 8ft long with a teddy bear tied to the end. In a trance like state she stood in one spot looking to the sky and twirled the shit out of the staff for what in the end was around 7 hours!
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Some good pictures of her on this forum
 
Probably not the weirdest thing, but one of my first memories of Ibiza.. On my first trip there in 2008, flew out one morning then checked in to the hotel early afternoon. We decided to take a wonder around San An to check the place out. Was walking around having a look at the shops and then saw this guy who must've been in his late 50's/early 60's, dressed pretty smart (shirt & trousers), earphones in, doing this weird slow motion dance thing in the middle of the street. Clearly off his head - he then proceeded to walk down the street with his arms in the air, occasionally stopping to break out a different slow motion dance move (think of that stupid robot dance Peter Crouch used to do but at half the speed)

Me and my mate just looked at each other and he said something like "We're gonna have fun this week!"
 
Some of our lot took a load of acid at the putumayo cafe one year and then 'thought' it would be a 'good idea' to borrow someone else's camper van, which then broke down on the carreterra somewhere in arse end of nowhere and they had to wait to be towed by some farmer. I thought it was an urban myth until i saw the pix. Scenes..
 
Pablo Montez Junior said:
Some of our lot took a load of acid at the putumayo cafe one year and then 'thought' it would be a 'good idea' to borrow someone else's camper van, which then broke down on the carreterra somewhere in arse end of nowhere and they had to wait to be towed by some farmer. I thought it was an urban myth until i saw the pix. Scenes..
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Props to whoever managed to get that far in one piece !
 
Hey guys first time on here, so here goes, back in Aug 2000 during first visit to our spiritual home, after 3 days of shenanigans which took me plus two old friends via Judgement Sunday's, Manumission and Godskitchen ( lots of misdemeanours in between) eventually found self and friends by Bar M on the morning of fourth day on route back to apartment, about 10am, 3rd member of group was obsessed with buying a porn magazine and in that he was successful and found his way to the hotel (shared room) toilet for a wank! Me and 2nd close friend woke up 8 hours later wandering where the f#%k 3 days had gone and more to the point where was (let's call him Dave had gone) I opened up said shared bathroom only for Dave to fall out in a cloud of condensation about 2 stone lighter than I'd last seen him! And his words "guys I can't come," I've never laughed so much in my life as we tucked him in saying you'll get over it x
 
Taff75 said:
I opened up said shared bathroom only for Dave to fall out in a cloud of condensation about 2 stone lighter than I'd last seen him! And his words "guys I can't come," I've never laughed so much in my life as we tucked him in saying you'll get over it x
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Not so much a wanking story, but similiar to the above, but a few years back, my first ever night on the "swedgers" and I didn't realise the implications of a term I've now come to accept like a long-lost brother: Pilly willy.

So I'm wondering why most of the night I can feel it constantly shrivelled. I mean, it seems to be retreating into myself the longer the night goes on, I can almost feel it now touching the belt on my shorts it's come up that far. I get chatting to a brunette, some northern lass who makes it pretty clear what her intentions are from the off when more or less her second sentence is asking to give my fingers a new flavour of the captain birdseye variety.

We start grinding a little and I'm growing more and more conscious that there's nothing to grind on. Thankfully, I think she was too swedged herself to notice, but it must have been like pole dancing on a Ken doll, the first ever man to have a dick made entirely of dust.

We end up back at the hotel, and I'm trying to coax this little pink smurf's hat out of his shell. At this stage it's looking less like a dick, and more like a clitoris than hers even is. Her insessant pleads of "Do me then!!" in a husk Burnley accent are doing nothing to help the situation as she very openly positions herself onto all fours on the bed, her clothes now just a distant memory of the not-so-long-term-past.

Thankfully, Percy (we all give our own a name, don't even try to deny it) doesn't wilt under pressure and does enough to immitate a convincing form, just as I was eyeing up the cylinder shaped room key and hoping she wouldn't notice the difference.

10 minutes past. Nothing. This is a new personal best.
Another 20 minutes.
Another 20.
And this is now at some pace.
Another 20. She seems to be having a great time, but I'm confused that she's not the slightest bit suspicious as to why this event has not reached full-time.

The sweat is now glazed over me like a Krispy Kreme, hair is soaked like I've just fallen into the Ushuaia pool yet again, she's looking similiar.
The whole room is condensated, windows steamed, moisture on the walls.

Eventually, after what must have been close to two hours since the first insertion began, I pull out and loudly exclaim my extreme frustration.
"I CAN'T f***ING CUM!!!" I yell, and as I'm doing so, the key in the door turns and my friends have returned to the room just in time to see me yelling the now infamous sentence whilst absoluting Paul van Dyk'ing this now soaked bird from behind.

"f***ing hell," says one of the lads. "It f***ing stinks in here!" and as two of them recoil in horror, holding their noses, the other lad there and then vomits all over the floor.
 
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What's the story of the old lady that stands on the VIP balcony in the amnesia terrace all the time? She looks a bit like mother Teresa.

I've heard stories and rumours for years now but wondered what others thought?

Also the old hippy guy that loves it! Remember him touching some 20 something bird up in the terrace at the opening this year!
 
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