Wednesday, 7 September 2011

Ibiza: The Middle

Where was I?

Oh yes, so everybody else went to Amnesia while me and Hayley went back to the hotel. We actually stayed up for a bit and had a nice chat, then when everyone else got back I was still awake. Claire stayed in my room because we had a spare bed and the only thing I could find to lend her for sleeping in was a very small pair of purple pyjama shorts that I've had since I was 13. I'm not sure why I packed them but I found them in the loft at home and something deep inside me made me pack them. My gran bought them for me from McKays and they have 'sports-style' white stripes down the side of them...

If Karma got me back for laughing at that woman and her one giant shoe by making me vomit and have to go home early; then Claire's punishment was definitey walking through the hotel wearing my shorts.

Ergh, I've just remembered- I was sick in a bush on our way out of DC10!

AND I've just remembered something else about our journey to Ibiza- when we went through customs, they thought that my hairdryer might be a bottle, so they searched my hand luggage which was full of clothes and underwear carefully rolled up and stuffed inside my heavy shoes (I was making sure my luggage wasn't overweight). Me and the Customs Man made awakward small talk as he searched my bag for drugs and/or explosives. Then, after pulling everything out of my bag and laying it out like a shop display for everyone to gawp at, the Customs Man discovered my box of 160 Yorkshire Tea Bags.

"How long are you going to Ibiza for?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.*

"Five days..."

I tried to explain about the whole 'returning-to-Paris-for-another-year' thing but he clerly thought I was a Bad Liar who cannot go for less than a week without drinking 160 cups of tea. As a matter of fact, I didn't have a single cup of tea the whole time we were in Ibiza. (Secretly I think this is why I was ill- my body simply can't function without tea.)

Anyway, I believe I was talking about Tuesday morning...

So Claire walked through the hotel in my hideous shorts, then we all went to Playa den Bossa beach which, up until I just Googled it a moment ago, I thought was called Bora Bora beach, but that is the name of the famous beach bar on the beach, not the name of the actual beach itself. Wow, I just said 'beach' five times in one sentence.

At the beach everyone got into the spirit of the Would You Rather Game (during which me and Claire exchanged a smug look that said 'We did this') but then Tom killed it by taking the game to its furthest, logical conclusion:

"Would You Rather sleep with your mum and everyone knows, or sleep with your dad and nobody knows?"

I think the question was phrased with boys in mind, as if sleeping with your dad is somehow worse for boys. Well it isn't any better for girls and not one amongst us deigned to answer the question, so that put a stop to the Would You Rather Game.

Tuesday night was Carl Cox and John Digweed at Space. It was my bestest music of the whole week I think. Ricky told me to call John Digweed 'Diggers' to sound cool but I just can't do it. Here is a video from the night we were there:



The next day was Wednesday, which meant Zoo Project. It was so good last year that me, Claire and Kat were almost crying when it was time to leave, because it finishes at midnight and we weren't looking forward to Eden. Little did we know, during that fateful night in Eden we would meet Ricky, Tom and Mark... the very same three who would make up part of the 'Ibiza Twelve' a year later...

Zoo Project is held in an old zoo and it has an outdoorsy-festival feel, all zoo-themed, obviously. Us girls decided to get our faces painted in order to get in the spirit of things. At first I was a bit dubious about getting it done, as it reminds me of being a little paranoid child and everyone staring at my face and feeling stupid, but the people who did it were amazing and they were heavy on the glitter, rather than whiskers and a painted-on animal nose. For anymonity reasons I can't show you mine (my Top Secret Identity must remain a Top Secret at all times) but I'm sure my feline friend won't mind me posting this lovely picture of her face painting:
















Ah I am suddenly very, very tired and apparently a man is coming tomorrow morning at eight am to fix me up with some blinds and I need to tidy my disgusting hovel before I go to sleep.

Until tomorrow...

*Ok I made that bit up about the eyebrow... but he could have done for all you know.

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