Thursday, July 5, 2018

Ibiza, Spain: The New Sodom and Gomorrah

Partying in Ibiza
I walk into my hostel and there are empty balloons on the floor. A guy from Manchester, in his strong accent sees me and he talks to me like he's stoned: "How you been, Paul?"

"Good, Josh. What's all these balloons doing here?"

"We've been doing Nos."

"What's Nos?"

"Nitrogen gas. It feels goooooood."

He picked up an empty vodka bottle and holds it up. It's filled with all these little silver gas tanks.

"How many are in there?" I ask.

"We did 28."


"Are you gonna party with us tonight?"

"How much is it?"

"40 Euros."

"I don't think so. That's too much for me."

"Oh - come on! You gotta party with us. It's our last night here. We can drop E together."

* * *

I texted my German friend and he asks me where I'm going to in Spain, months back. I tell him, "Ibiza."

"Why there? That's the party island? You're not a partier."

"I don't know. I'm flying on miles, and the airline agent said I only had to pay the tax to go anywhere in Spain. I picked Ibiza."

"Go somewhere else. It's really expensive there."

I thought about it, and I never changed my ticket. After looking at the extraordinary prices, I thought I should probably not go to Ibiza and go back to Madrid.

But my mentor back home convinced me to go. He said, "You were planning on going. Just go. Even if it's expensive."

So, I decided to go.

* * *

Iberia Airlines lost my luggage going to Ibiza. Not a good start to the trip. Also, a thief stole my cell phone, while I sleeping in the airplane.

But when I arrive in Ibiza, I know I'm at the right place. I love the hot air and the beautiful tropical-feeling climate.

* * *

One day, a fun Irish lad asks me to join his Irish party group. We were at a pool party. Everyone was drinking and without clothes and bathing in the sun by the pool.

Did I mention everyone is beautiful in Ibiza? I really felt like I was on a movie set.

We swim and play and chat and enjoy ourselves in the sunshine and the water.

Some of the girls are topless.

For me to swim, I actually have to swim in my black underwear, because my luggage was lost. I had no swim trunks.

It was kind of embarrassing at first, but oddly enough, I noticed the people staring at me. In fact, I think it encouraged more people to not wear clothes around the pool. (I don't know if that was a good thing.)

Such was the environment in Ibiza. People liked the heat.

Soon, two girls from Catalonia join us. One is gorgeous. She's blonde with bright blue eyes and bronze skin. When she smiles, the whole place lights up. From time to time, she teaches me Catalan. I make fun of her and tell her she's not really from Catalan. She's really German or Scandinavian.

Amongst all of us, it's just one flirt fest. I mean what can be better than everyone being nice to you, and you nice to everyone? You get attention. You give attention. (But you know, people are really on their best behavior when they're interested in taking you to their bedroom.) Everyone acts like an angel, but inside I could feel there's something more going on.

In the evening the Irish and Catalonians ask me to go out with them. I decline, telling them it's too expensive, and I prefer to sleep. To give you an idea, a coke will cost you $8. Water is the same price. A bottle of vodka, which would cost $10 at home, is $120. Ibiza is bloody expensive.

* * *

The next morning I hear about how all went wrong. I'm glad I didn't get involved in the debauchery and more, although I'm sure they would've enjoyed it if I participated in their fleshly acts to know each other better. But they didn't look as happy as they did the day before.

In fact, early in the morning the Irish guys were drinking coke and whiskey and weren't smiling. I guess that's the Irish for you.

* * *

I don't think I'll be getting much writing done here, and my time in Ibiza is ending. No doubt the famous people are here. DJ Martin Garrix and David Guetta are here every week. The people party on the yachts, not too far from shore, so they could be seen.

I also found out yesterday that Ibiza is the electronic dance music capital of Europe in the summer. Too bad I'm not that into EDM; otherwise, I'd be in paradise, but an expensive paradise.

So, it's been an interesting experience. I don't think I got the full experience, which is good. I think Paris Hilton summed it best, when she said: "Ibiza, if you've never been there before, is very overwhelming. It's like nowhere on earth. The best advice is to sleep as late as possible because nothing gets going until around 3am and it goes until like 7 or 8."

And what Hilton didn't say, is that every day is like this on Ibiza.

I don't know how I ended up here, but I think I've come to today's Sodom and Gomorrah. 

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