Rubbing alcohol

You might have noticed that I have not been blogging religiously lately. Well, it's because after the Ibiza trip, I feel like I have nothing to blog about my life or somebody else's life at all. My life is a complete bore at the moment and it's get really cloudy nowadays in the costa del crime (it's suppose to be as hot as the Sahara desert this time) which makes everything more uninteresting. I tried to write about a lost friend but decided to phone him yesterday and he answered the phone and said that he is still alive and kicking. I was ready to bash and give a good go at him for not calling, texting or emailing me for a whole month but good thing I didn't post it here because it turned out, he's one of my loyal readers.

Work is even unspeakable. I won't even mention anything about it. My only consolation with work is the fact that I am entertained by guessing what time my (female) officemate will turn up with her never ending, colorful (though most of the times drunk) tales of excuses for tardiness. I am thinking of doing a bet with the others. 20 euros for right guess whether she is arriving, or not, or what time, but I don't think even the gods will ever win this game.

My other (male) officemate is a basket case. He turns up to work alright though Mondays for him is still part of the weekend. He goes to work hammered. I kid you not, 90 fucking percent of the time, he is pissed! His smell is mortifying. Sometimes I think "Am I really going to work, or to an AA meeting?"

Problem with these colleague of mine, I think they are alcoholics though they said they're not which is a sign that they are indeed alcoholics because alcoholics do not admit that they are indeed what they are. Am I making any sense at all? I sit between these two in the office. Sometimes, the hang over vibe in the room is just so overwhelming, I feel like passing out or throwing up endlessly.


I think they feel they are still on a long vacation. They work, get paid, then get pissed everyday. I can't blame them. I mean getting out of Britain is like getting out of prison after a decade and obviously they want to get the most out of the weather, the beautiful surroundings and the cheaper booze.


Anyway, even if they are chronic drinkers and pathological latecomers, I like them both (except the smell of course). They are quite younger than me but they have wicked sense of humour and we have a camaraderie which makes us in some way or another not only officemates but also friends.
Like right now, I should be working but no, I'm blogging. He is chatting on MSN and she's checking out the latest Britney story in the Sun online (she was caught before so the admin had to lock other Internet sites so she can't surf, but hey, she's a clever girl).



A whiff of alcohol is in the air. It's time for lunch, and we're having wine down the local café . Adios.




Island fever

So I am back to reality. The Malaga wind is much cooler than Ibiza's though it is the same fiercesome sun the burns my now ever glowing skin. the Avarca sandals I bought in Ibiza is killing my feet though the woman in the shop said it is but normal. The leather should adjust to my feet and my feet should adjust to the leather, just like everything, it's a matter of waiting.

The day after I came home, I woke up slightly schizophrenic--I got used to the 7 day rituals I had during my vacation, I badly wanted a big English breakfast on the table though I had to settle disapprovingly to my normal omelette, coffee and a thousand fags. I wanted to hear the boisterous laughs of the tourists..to see the wild crowd roaming to and fro the streets of San Antonio; the hustling in the tiendas..to hear the weird Ibicencan language of the locals and the smell of saline in the early island mornings. yes, I live on the coast but this is different. This is the Mediterranean and I am an island boy and will always be.

I used to hate the beach but after the trip, I was converted to a pseudo sun worshipper. This weekend, I spent my time lying on the beach for hours soaked with SPF 30 . It was a different feeling. I was liberated. The water is much cooler than in IBIZA but it didn't stop me to enjoy being submerged into its depths... alone and free.

Thinking of the sea, home came to my mind. I wonder if the waters of my island is still as clear as I last saw it three years ago.

Suddenly, I missed home.

I closed my eyes and forced myself to sleep. This too, shall pass.

Priceless.

I know you're sick already of waiting to hear what happened to me in my IBIZA vacation. If you are one of my friends in my address book, you probably have received the link to my entire photo album and have seen my fabulous legs for a million times. So, let's cut to the chase since it is painstaking to remember what happened to me in IBIZA day by day especially when I was basically wine-drunk the whole effing time.

So, instead of giving you a daily account of my trip, I'll give you the highlights instead.
As you know, ladies and gentlemen and everyone in between, IBIZA is not just about clubs, clubs, clubs. The real magic of the island lies in its immaculate beaches, the crystal clear waters and the culture so unique, you feel you are transported to another dimension. There is something for everyone. IBIZA is a freedom island where one can experience total liberty provided that you have enough time and money. Yes, money. Before you set foot in this island, destroy your obese piggy bank or tell your bank manager he wouldn't be a happy bunny when he sees your account for the next six months or so. Everything in the island is outrageously priced. However, it's a once in a lifetime holiday and even if you leave with your hands empty, I'm sure you will take home memories of travelling the road most travelled--your own priceless version.

Here's my travellers tips for IBIZA.


Food: Let's start with something I would want to hate but never get around to because I just love eating!
The island boasts of amazing restaurants--that is if you know where to go. It is like finding the holy grail but once you've cracked the code, you're in for a feast. Best thing to do? Ask the locals or surf the net for IBIZA forums where travellers can tell you proper places to have a meal and not the ones where tourists stuff their mouths with burgers and preposterous pizza all day.

Lovely places to check out include:
Es Rebost de Can Prats : c/ cervantes n4 San Antonio--971 34 62 52 (authentic Ibicencan Cuisine)

Es Ventall : C/ 7 Cervantes 22 San Antonio --971 34 17 29 (perfect for lunch. Spanish/Mediterranean/Ibecencan)


Sa Prensa: Marino Riquer 9, General Prim, 6 ---971 34 16 70 (seafood)
Rias Baixas--C/ de Ignacio Riquer, 4--971 34 04 80 (Gallic cuisine)
Can Paris--Progreso, 34 - Sant Antoni - 971 34 00 18 (seafood, rice)

There is also a rooftop restaurant inside the walled city overlooking the the whole town of Ibiza which is fab for a romantic dinner. I forgot the name 'coz I passed out while waiting for the food( Read: slow service). However, the food was brilliant so I forgave them all and would spare them of my verbal diarrhea. ok?

Dining in Ibiza is not cheap at all. Prepare at least a hundred euros for two including a bottle of wine. Service, just as the rest of the country is slow however, if you are assertive enough and tell them you work for a magazine (like I did), they will be on their feet ready to be your guardian angels for a day. Parking is a nightmare. be ready to go for dinner at 6pm (though Spanish dinnertime is 9pm) so that you have ample time to find a parking space. There are municipal parking spaces; first come, first serve basis and paid parking everywhere--- everywhere is nowhere so be early and be sharp in looking for a spot.
Beaches: the real star of the island. Although there are loads of places you can choose from, The beaches of Santa Eulalia tops my list, Portinatx, second. Clear waters, away from the maddening crowd and little cafés where you can just hang out and relax with the locals. These are family beaches so forget the glistening muscles, bulges, Dolce and Gabanna posers, and anorexic posterboys and girls. You can get those in the discotheques anyway. For the ultimate gay beach, Go for the Playa in Las Salinas where you can find Chiringay--the official gay chiringuito (beach bar) of the island. Before you can reach this, you will have to pass a long stretch of a mix nudist beach (self-explanatory) so watch out for sagging skin...sagging everything! There were a few surprises though when I was there so don't lose hope. The Italians fill the island so they save the eyes to unpleasant things, really. For some cruising actions, the dunes are perfect for that must have 10 minute quickie. Careful with the olive trees though...they can be nasty sometimes, leaving you lashes like you've been whipped by a merciless dominatrix.

Best to go to Formentera if you have a day to spare. Stunning beaches...emerald blue waters and gorgeous Italians. I was really wondering why Ibiza and Formentera is full of Italians until I looked again on the map and voila. It is because of the distance. From somewhere in Italy , they can actually travel by ship to Ibiza in less than 6 hours.

Getting Around: This is important. You have to have a car to navigate IBIZA. The towns are far from each other and even though it is a fairly small island, you wouldn't want to be stuck in one place the whole time just because you don't want to shell-out a couple hundred euros for a handy piece of Ford or Volks. Best views can be seen from the highway or from a steep hill. You don't wanna miss these things, would you? Renting a car would cost you about 250-300 euros for 7 days.
The island of Formentera, however, is plagued with scooters and bicycles. Do some exercise. Pedal.
Getting Drunk: If you are NOT one of the filthy rich people on earth, then you should think twice in spending your hard earned money on booze. Beer costs 10 euros---that's almost 13 US dollars for a beer! Imagine vodka tonic or a bottle of Crystal. Best way to get high...get drunk in your hotel room before going out, or end up on the streets sober and skint. Bad.
Clubbing: Now we're talking. As a general knowledge, IBIZA is a clubbing paradise. Get your most trendy sunglasses, your most fitted shirt and pants and gyrate the night away with the best party music in the planet! Again, you can never go clubbing every night in IBIZA unless you are Paris Hilton as the entrance fee is sky high. I went to PACHA on a Thursday night and it cost me 48 euros to get excluding drinks! Mind you, the ticket I had was already discounted since I bought it from our hotel but if you buy it from the gates, it would be a whopping 60 - 80 euros depending on the party/event at that particular day. It was all worth it though. The first rays of light blazing from the disco balls would get you down and dirty, leaving you transfixed and transported to another world of your own. Just close your eyes and feel the energy sinking through every bit of your pores and it will get you high...better than crack.
Your must have destinations: Space, Amnesia, El Divino, Pacha and Bar M.
For chill out sessions, go to the iconic Cafe Del Mar and get drunk with their music. Of course, spend an afternoon to watch the sunset NOT in the café because it is too expensive (2 drinks for twenty euros!) but on the rocks /shore in front of it. I was quite disappointed with CDM though. I think the interior is quite tacky. What do you think?
Shopping.--- Prada, Gucci, Chanel...name it, the island has it. From the most obscure pieces of souvenirs (like an incense puffing dragon in the Hippy Market) to the most outlandish, designer clothing you can think of, IBIZA is a paradise for shopaholics. I bought a PACHA shirt, really normal one with the iconic cherries on it, for 26 euros; shirts for my folks and souvenir garbage like keyholders, ref magnet and pens (hahahaha. I'm sooo tourist, aint I?) for friends and foes. If you want the chaos of the bargainworld or mercadillo (flea market), go to Es Cana for the Hippie Market every Wednesday. Loads of stuff and rubbish. Hold tight to your bags though as it is literally crowded in there. You wouldn't want your fake LV wallet to be stolen at all, would you?




Getting Laid: The opportunity for a mind blowing sex or a holiday romance is everywhere. As a general rule, when one is on a holiday, he loses all inhibitions and is ready for some naughty actions when situation presents itself. Flash a huge smile and say hello---this is how everything starts, usually. Be safe though. You wouldn't want to bring home some diseases or get pregnant by some tattooed hippie whose name you can't even remember. Important: the only type of crab you should get your hands into is the red, delightful one that you ordered from the crustacean restaurant and definitely not the one you exterminate with specialized shampoo, OK?

So there you go...my IBIZA trip this year. A once in a lifetime experience I wouldn't trade for anything else. (hmmm..A Rolex would probably change my mind on that. Hehehehe).



A two-way ticket to IBIZA? 200 euros. Living your dream for 7 days? Priceless.

Till then..Ciao!