Ohh man.

The cops here drive the silliest cars, these tiny ass Renaults. Its hard to take them seriously when they pull up next to you in these 1.2 liter, diesel, Lego-Like autos. The dudes are very cool, very professional.

Just a few words about the party last Sunday.

Space is a 7 stage, football stadium sized club, it even has different
levels. There are countless bars, washroom areas the size of a
Shoppers Drug Mart and the outside lineup space could double as a GM
SUV assembly plant. We got there just after eight, if you book online
you are told to be there early. Ohh, it’s not any cheaper. WTF? With a
conservative estimate, the Opening of Space Party had a bout 7000
bodies. Once past the pleasant, organized and very quick security
gates we simply turned into cattle. Walking about and exploring the
different areas was a challenge at best, pushing, shoving, barely
making progress. It wasn’t that much fun. The music was blasting, but no
one was dancing, just snaking around. It felt like I was part
of a riot. We cashed in our two free drink tickets as soon as we
found a bar, the drinks were great, strong as hell. Ibiza doesn’t use
measuring shotglasses, you ask for a strong drink, you get one.
Ohhhh wait, they cost 13 Euro each, the cost of TWO FOURTY POUNDER
bottles of vodka at the bodega half block away. The dude who owns the
club is a local politician, one of the wealthiest people on this island.

Music, sure there was music. The exact same music on every stage.
Fatboy Slim played a few cool tracks, the rest io the stages either
played the recycled Deadmau5 tracks, remixes of those tracks or
Pjanoo, Eric Prid’s overplayed yuck. Every music area had either
minimal house, electro…..well..hmm that’s it. At one point I heard the exact same track being played on two stages within 3 minutes of eachother. There was nothing groovey, nothing musical, nothing melodic, nothing deep, nothing memorable. The same tinny, basic, minimal garbage that you can either pick up off Beatport for 99 cents or make yourself in minutes.

7 stages of shitty Ableton Live, constant BPM music. What is the point of booking a DJ if all he is going to do is press play on his computer and smirk at the crowd? I saw it with my own eyes, thirty warped tracks, nothing else, nothing creative, no layers, no loops…nothing. I don´t even think they used headphones or a mixer. I feel completely cheated, I got suckered into a shitty tourist trap, like some dumbass American who drops $100 at Wharfside. After one of the stages blew its amp and shut down we left, with droves of others and hit up Bora Bora, a beach club across the street that was free and had way better music. We’re going to dispute the credit card charges and try to get our 175 dollars back. What a fucking joke.

I spoke too soon.

I parked the little French rocket a tad too close to the bus loop in
front of our hotel. 120 Euro down the toilet, completely my fault, I
am a bad citizen.

Looks like dry bread with mayo for dinner tonight.

Good car the 207, just a few flaws.

The roads on this island are silky smooth, almost unbelievably so.
The highways, even the back roads have this pitch black, brand new
tar. The infarstructure here is top notch. Most are windy, really
windy with very generous speed limits. You can literally fly. We took
our little Peugeot to the opposite corner of the isle and had some
fun. Little tires equal loads of understeer, great brakes, yeah needs
bigger tires. This place would be deadly on my ol' bike.

A few words from Ibiza.

Our hotel absolutely rules. It’s super clean, spacious, air
conditioned, has two huge swimming pools and as you can see from the
picture, meters away from the sea. The view from our patio is
breathtaking, we’re here for seven days. Yay. Once again rented a
car, a brand new Peugeot 207, four door diesel with barely 1000k on
it. Cheap to rent, cheap to run with no mileage restrictions. Good
stereo too, glad I brought my CD case. I’m planning on exploring
every single corner of this crazy island.

Crazy island it surely is, this is still the shoulder season and every
place is packed. Finding parking is a one hour long puzzle game, if
you can fit, anyway, and not block traffic, you’re legally parked.
Food and booze at the grocery store is cheap, a dozen beers is less
than 5 Euros, a dozen eggs 1, a jug of water the size if my head 60
cents. As expected the corner stores and restaurants are considerably
more, nothing like ripoff-Paris though. Our hotel room has a roomy
kitchen, we can cook whatever we please. The weather is amazing, I am
typing this out on our patio and the sun seems 5 meters away from my
face. There are fancy boats and airplanes buzzing all around me, nice.

We haven’t begun the madness yet, the reason why we’re here, clubbing.
We have our tickets, maps, DJ info, cans of energy drinks and a fridge
full of fruit. We’re starting our non stop club tour in two days. This
is Ibiza, the place where clubs open at noon and the afterparties
start at 8AM the next day. Total insanity. The two guys from Deep
Dish are here, Steve Lawler, Sasha, Pete Tong, Micah, Danny Tengalia,
Fatboy Slim…..this is just at one club. There is more than a dozen
massive discos here. This is calm before the storm, rest by the pool
with a vodka lemon I must.

The overnight ferry.

Repeat after me.
It’s impossible to sleep in a chair.
It’s impossible to sleep in a chair.

Getting a night’s sleep in a chair cannot be done, it’s a myth like
UFO’s and Eskimos. They packed us up like a bushel of turkeys in a hot
room with extremely uncomfortable seating. I “slept” on the floor, my
head on a backpack, hugging a lifejacket. Marcie was flailing around
on in her seat most of the night, I doubt she slept for more than an
hour.

The ship was pretty cool, similar to a BC Ferry but with a bar and
private sleepers which command, slight exaggeration here……a one
Million Billion Euro upgrade fee. Pffft.

We arrived at around 7AM and caught a bus to our hotel. The weather is
currently awesome.

All of Europe is ham-crazy.

There are all kinds of different stuff. Most are raw, just cured with
salt. Some costs as much as 140.00 + Euro for a kg.

Thank you for your sacrifices little piggies, you’re a delightful treat. .

We're going to Ibiza.

To quote the best selling singers, songwriters “The Vengaboys”.

I Don’t Wanna Be A Bus Driver
All My Life
I’m Gonna Pack My Bags And Leave This Town
Grab A Flight
Fly Away On Venga Airways
Fly Me High
Ibiza Sky

I Look Up At The Sky
And I See The Clouds
I Looked Down At The Ground
And I See The Rainbow Down The Drain
Fly Away On Venga Airways
Fly Me High
Ibiza Sky

Whoah! We’re Going To Ibiza
Whoah! Back To The Island
Whoah! We’re Going To Ibiza
Whoah! We’re Gonna Have A Party
Whoah! In The Mediterranean Sea

Toodieeeeee Toodieeeeee Toodieeeeee Toodieeeeee Doooooooo…..