Ah. Ibiza. I first visited the White Island in my early 20s with my parents when they rented a finca somewhere near San Rafael for a week in late October. This was the first of three or four such holidays together, always in the same property. We found Ibiza to be a beautiful place with great beaches. We particularly enjoyed the relatively-undeveloped north of the island, where many tourists never go.
At that time of year, the clubbing season has just finished so all of the clubs and bars are shut until the next spring. We visited San Antonio one day and found it to be a pleasant-looking place where almost everything was closed – a far cry from its reputation for vomit-filled streets during the summer season.
Fast forward a few years to the mid-90s. I was in my late twenties and enjoying a misspent second youth of regular clubbing in London as well as from time to time in Amsterdam, Berlin, San Francisco… Four of us, two couples who partied together every weekend, decided to head to Ibiza for a week in September. This was a natural progression given the explosion of dance music in the 90s, the fact that Ibiza was already a well-known slightly upmarket gay holiday destination and that the four of us were earning decent enough salaries to think we could afford it!
Package-holiday club kids stay in San Antonio but for gay tourists, Ibiza town is where it’s at and so that’s where we stayed. A typical day for us on the island would be get up around 11 or midday and to head to the Playa Es Cavallet beach for the afternoon. After that, it would be back to the apartments for a long nap before heading out for an early evening drink followed by dinner in the old town. After that, we’d either go back to the apartments to get ready for a visit to a megaclub (once or twice in a week) or continue our evening in the old town, bar-hopping our way up to the ramparts to finish the night at the now-closed Anfora Disco with its annoyingly repetitive playlist and very dark backroom. When that closed there was always the possibility of some cruising on the ramparts until the sun came up. Generally, we were still up at sunrise every morning.
We did Ibiza five times, I think. Our last visit in 1999 was the most epic. By then there were five of us and on this occasion, we stayed for 10 nights rather than the usual seven. I learned that 10 disco sunrises were at the limit of what my body could take..This trip was something of a turning point as within a few months both couples in our group would be on the way to splitting up and cracks were already showing but despite this, we had some great moments. It was also the scene of what I consider to be one of my best nights out ever, guest-listed at El Divino to hear Carl Cox. I’ll write more about that another time.
Ibiza is perhaps the only place where I’ve ever felt truly on holiday, free for a while from everyday cares but at the same time knowing that all good things have to come to an end and that soon we’d have to head back home. I always remember looking back at the beach at the end of our last afternoon there each time, thinking what a beautiful place it was and wondering when we’d be back there.
There are many things I didn’t do in Ibiza. I never went to Bora Bora as the one time it was planned, I didn’t manage to drag my arse out of bed. I only went to Space once, and left before it got going; having gone there straight from another club, paid the entry and bought a drink I started to crash on the terrace with my head in the lap of some random young man with whom I’d danced earlier in the night. Or was his head in my lap? Anyway, I decided my other half had had the right idea in heading home and I followed suit. And we never went to Café Del Mar because, well, it’s in San Antonio.
I’d really like to visit Ibiza again one day although I rather doubt we’d go clubbing. In 2007, when it looked like the far right might get elected here in France, we only half-jokingly considered where we’d move to if the worst happened. Berlin and Ibiza were the likeliest candidates – even though I know that living full-time on the island is a very different proposition from visiting for a week or two.
When I started thinking about this post several months ago, the featured track was going to be Home by Matt Nash which sums up how I feel about Ibiza. However, the video is just too corny unless Bunny Girls and “exclusive” beach clubs are your thing (the Blue Marlin didn’t exist when we went to Ibiza but we wouldn’t have gone there if it did). Personally, I’m surprised that Bunny Girls are still a thing at all.
Café Del Mar by Energy 52 came out in 1993 and was a floor-filler for the rest of that decade and beyond. It looks like I didn’t actually add it to my collection until 1998 because the CD I have includes that years Nalin & Kane remix which I loved. Another version on that CD is Hybrid’s Time Traveller Remix; listening to this recently I found that I now like breakbeat much more than I did before and I recommend checking it out.
Looking up the track this week I learned that the melody is from a piece by Belgian composer Wim Mertens, of whom we’ve become great fans in the last few years!