Yes, you need to go to Ibiza June 8, 2007
Posted by Niels in : Other, Personal , trackback
Ibiza. Good God. How did it take twenty-six years for someone to inform me that hidden in the Mediterranean, off the coast of Spain, there is a Bacchanalian island of fun, sun, sand, drugs, alcohol, and sex?
All the women are beautiful and all the men are alpha. Every guy I saw had a confident strut that I only see in one in a hundred guys. (One in a thousand if you’re looking at engineers.) But of course, if you’re not the kind of guy who’s totally at home in a club, what on earth would you be doing in Ibiza? I could spend a whole summer in Ibiza studying body language.
And the men approach, too. Granted, they were probably assisted by enough drugs and alcohol to drop a good-sized horse, and I hardly saw any daytime approaches, but still – what a different vibe. I saw a group of girls I wanted to talk to, hesitated for a moment, and someone else was talking to them within seconds.
I spent my first 36 hours in Ibiza, lamely enough, sleeping. I was exhausted from the London workshop (4 hours of sleep Saturday night, no sleep Sunday night) and coming down with something on top of that.
Sleep was over after Brian arrived, though. We headed to the beach, where I discovered that I actually prefer breasts when they’re in bikinis. It’s just not as much fun where they’re just out there and no one cares. I did make the most of a rough situation and struck up a conversation with some topless German girls. And some Canadians. And some English. And Irish. And Eastern European. Oh, and Spanish.
We hit Bora Bora, a beachside bar that legends are made of. Imagine the hottest girls you’ve seen in your life, laid out side by side on chaise lounges, half asleep in the Mediterranean sun while techno beats pound in the background. I think I’ve been spoiled for beach bars forever.
But the high point of the trip was without a doubt, the Subliminal party at Pacha. My first thought upon walking in was, “This club holds 5000 people?” But then you turn a corner and find another room, and then another, and then another, and then the rooftop terrace, and then you understand.
Cover charge for the club was 50 euros (about 67 dollars). There are plenty of discount tickets (around 35 euros or so) available about town, but Brian and I decided to hold out. We took a taxi out to Pacha, planning to grab a bite to eat and shop around for tickets, only to discover that Pacha has its own sushi restaurant. And if you spend 50 euros at the restaurant, you get into the club for free.
So an hour later, happily full of an amazing salad, delicious duck, the best sushi I’ve had in my entire life, and a decadent, complex, chocolate and ice cream dessert, we headed into Pacha.
What can I say about my night at Pacha? I’ve gone from being terrified of house parties to working the room at the hottest club scene in the world. Oh, and I did it sober. I feel fantastic.
I finally had to bail out early at 6am to catch my morning flight back to London. But not before finding a deep connection with a sexy ex-law student from England. The conversations where someone says, “I can’t believe I’m telling you all this,” – those are the conversations that stick with you.
Comments»
Do you have Genital Herpes? This is one of the topics never discussed in PU Blogs (I understand why) but it seems that PUA’s would be the most likely to carry and spread the disease. How do you screen girls for this? How do you deal with the moral issue of spreading the disease? Do you get tested on the regular?
Any recommendations on how to get lodging and where to stay in Ibiza?