Adventures Abroad: The Isle of the Drugged-Up Europeans, Part II (604 hits)
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Submitted by worm (View user info) at 2005-08-12 16:32:32 EDT
This a part of a series:
Episode 1: http://www.ubersite.com/m/65154
Part 1 of Episode 2: http://www.ubersite.com/m/67086
Now for what you both came here for:
Part 2 of "The Isle of Drugged-up Europeans":
To get an idea of what an almost-ultra-hip Mediterranean dance club is
like, imagine a sprawling, curvatious floor spotted with gogo dancers,
beneath-the-floor neon lights, and trendy bars with ugly waitresses and
insanely expensive drinks. Now populate this area with the aforementioned
Michael J. Foxes and the pointy toed women, 5,663,230 hours of consecutive
techno songs based on *exactly* the same backbeat, a lot of drugs, and an
"absolutely no touching" rule.
Everything that I had grown to know and love about dancing in America was
gone. Where was the dry-humping, the groping, and the making out?
Apparently, that part of American culture hadn't crossed the Atlantic.
There was a virtual force-field around every man and maid on the premise.
If you bumped into someone, an apology was needed, and often several
languages had to be attempted in order to get your message across. Dirty
and Mandingo get awfully aggressive with the ladies after the sun goes
down, but how were they to get around social protocol? How could they get
off if there was no groping? Luke-Duke and I shook our heads in confusion
as Dirty and Mandingo told tales of their rejections. Where did we go
wrong? What were we to do?
The remainer of the night passed with the pace of a sloth on barbituates,
with each of us weighing our return to sobriety against the $17 drinks. "DJ
Defected", the not-so-local talent from Hungary was on the tables for the
evening, and his lack of taste was eclipsed only by his tendancy to grab
the mike and show the crowd that
A) His English was atrocious and
B) Noone cared what he was saying anyway.
For example, "EVERYBODY *MAKES* SOME NOOOOISE!!!" was only responded to by
three people in the crowd. He dimmed the volume for a reaction only to hear
the pointy heels clicking on the tile floor, before quickly resetting it to
'Deafening'. This minor embarrassment didn't stop him from belting out some
favorites like "Do you understand house music???" before redropping the
*nsk-nsk-nsk* on our bleeding ears. It wasn't until 6am that we truely were
not having any fun. Barkeep summed it up nicely:
"This is gay. Let's go back."
OC, Barkeep, Mandingo, and Luke-Duke bought some hash and watch the sun
come up. I passed the fuck out on the bed. Dirty was M.I.A. until 11am when
we found him passed out on a plastic lounge by the pool. He had just fallen
asleep an hour ago.
Before I go on, I would like to take a minute to describe another shining
example of how my "ultra-budget" planning affected our trip. On my internet
search, I found the cheapest room I could for three people, we packed six
of us onto the 3 (very) small beds by pushing them together and sleeping
like sardines in a can. When we went to check out, they forgot to charge us
for the second day, so we ended up staying two nights at a decent hotel in
Ibiza for *nine* euro total per person.
God I rule.
Anyway, back to the story. We shared a few stale loaves of bread and some
juice for breakfast before taking a cab to the most popular beach on the
island, "Las Salinas".
Good God was it beautiful. You know in the movies, where the main character shows up at that island paradise with transparent water lapping at white sand, soft breezes, and gorgeous women? It was exactly like that except instead of Hugh Grant, it was us, and the women were as topless as they were gorgeous.
It was hard to feel like we weren't gawking- probably because we were. All of us. Like children in a candy store, but the candy is free... and it has a phenomenal rack.
Several hours of napping, tanning, smoking hash, and staring at the women went by quickly. As we were beginning to pack up, a woman came by and handed us some free tickets to a club.
"Club Amnesia? Didn't Adriano say that the one of the two best clubs of the island?"
A few of us nodded.
"It is closing party before winter start. Free tickets!" the woman told us in broken English.
"Club Amnesia..." I thought to myself. "Where have I heard that before?" It took a few hours, but somewhere between dinner and the club, it hit me.
**
Same song.
I'm back,
been around the world, ro-
mancin' girls that dance with girls from
Club Cheetah to Club Amnesia,
Peanuts in L.A.
Bubblin' in Dublin...
***
"JESUS CHRIST, GUYS! JAY-Z raps about Club Amnesia!" They looked at me like I was speaking Arabic. I stopped, gathered myself, and laid it out for them. The song is "I Just Wanna Love U", one of his more popular songs. Could there be another Club Amnesia?
I wasn't sure, but being one of the biggest clubs on Ibiza gives you a fair amount of clout.
"And it's their closing party..."
OC, Mandingo, and Barkeep took some E they got from Adriaaaaaano before we hit the club. From the moment our cab pulled up, we kenw we were lucky as hell to get those tickets. The line to buy them was enormous, and all the strung-out Euros looked like they belonged there a lot more than I did. We adjusted ourselves and flashed smiles before walking past the crowd.
Amnesia was unreal. There were two rooms, one the size of a football field and the other nearly as large. Drapes, and dots, spinning lights... a gigantic version of the bouncing light-up equalizers on your digital stereo. Someone put Austin Powers on meth and had him design a club.
Dudes in leather pants and vest with whips high-stepping to techno on white, cylindrical platforms. Women in heels a foot high. Every fucked-up fashoin statement you could ever imagine was on display at this place. I gave the bartender a 20-euro bill (about $25 American) for a vodka-tonic. The change was small enough to come in coins, and I didn't leave a tip.
My friends are fucked up. Staring at each other with pupils the size of diner plates, I distinctly remember Barkeep and Mandingo postured like they were about to wrestle, circling eachother and yawing their heads every several seconds to the backbeat of the music. Little do we know that we had been standing in some of the best spots in the house. Several yards in front of us, they were setting up a stage.
A lady came out, at first dwarfed by her silent presence on the stage and the growing curiosity of the patrons. She seemed quaint enough. She was thin and bony, but her hair was straight out of a shampoo commercial. Her smile lit up the room.
"Como estais vosotros?!" was her greeting. "You guys havin' a good time?" She spoke Spanish natively, but her English was flawless.
My friends and I thrust our drinks and fists in the air with the rest of the crowd.
"I hope you guys are havin' a good time, porque todo aqui en Ibiza- en Amnesia es de puta madre."
Thump thump thump-thumpthump-thump thump thump...
She shook her hips and turned her head to the DJ. He nodded and pointed at her. She winked.
Words cannot describe what this lady did to the club. She must have been up there dancing, and singing for three hours. Everytime she stopped, the crowd cheered emphatically. Obsessively. As the night wore on, the club grew thick with the sweat and heat of the night. People became relaxed, flirtatious, excited. We met some chicks from Chicago and OC got on one of them. OC has a girlfriend who he's still with and who never found out. We watched. Noone cared.
We danced like it would save our souls.
Hours later, her act was up and, with a wave of her mic, it was over. The crowd clapped, cheered, blew kisses. Everyone wa gasping for air and smiling at eachother. Perfect strangers stared at eachother with mouths agape as if to ask "Did you feel that too?". Just when we thought it was over, the lights go out and the music dies. Total blackout. Fireworks (I shit you not, FIREWORKS) start shooting from an area toward the back that they had cleared out. They were exploding over our heads.
Everyone is silently still, necks craned skyward, when the music kicks in. In comes a small army of women in brass bikinis with chains, staves, and swords. Before we can ask what the hell is going on, they light their wares on fire and start their own show. The fire is twirled and manuevered with dizzying precision, eaten, and reignited for the next stunt. The music is all the way up. The crowd is hopping. I meet a German guy who doesn't speak English or Spanish.
I don't speak German.
We hit on women together knowing that, between the two of us, we've got all our bases covered.
When the fire show stops, it's 7:45am. Everyone is exhausted. We go back to the hotel, hop into our sardine can and pass the fuck out.
The next morning, we weren't exactly sure if what we thought had happened had actually happened. We vowed not to say a word about OC's promiscuity, packed up our things and got back on the boat. We slept the whole ride home. None of us had ever experienced anything like it. We all vowed to come back someday.
Teaser for Adventures Abroad: Episode III: Northbound.
Halfway through the semester, my program was given a 10 day break from classes. Some folks decided to go to Barcelona, others to the Alps. Some took the grueling 80 mile hike of the Camino de Santiago. A week before the break, there were three of us who had no plans and, hence, decided to have no plans together.
"You guys wanna go to Bilbao? There's a pretty dope museum there." asked Luke-Duke. Museums are great- nothing to write home about, but it was a start. After decided that indecision would be the theme of our trip, we left it up to fate, looking forward to a 10 day adventure with no itineraries and no reservations. We kiss our goodbyes that Friday and get a one way bus ticket to Bilbao.
"I don't know if we can beat Ibiza." came a shot of baritone as we threw our bags into the undercarriage of the coach. Luke-Duke wasn't too optimistic.
"Let's give it a shot."
To be continued...
User Reviews
Submitted by imbored (user info) at 2005-08-12 21:09:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
that sounds like the kind of trip that would put god outta business for a month
good shit
Submitted by Worm (user info) at 2005-08-12 20:24:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Yes, there are 1 and 2 euro coins. The drink cost 17 euro, so while there was room for some trickery, rest assured that the drink was insanely expensive.
Thanks for the responses
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2005-08-12 18:39:20 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
an amusing read
Submitted by Tastycat (user info) at 2005-08-12 18:32:04 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I'd just like to point out that in Euros there are 1 and 2 euro coins, like in Canada. Because from an American's perspective, paying 20 Euro and getting change back would be less than one Euro. Know what I mean?
Other than that, I like this series.
Submitted by sideshow (user info) at 2005-08-12 17:04:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I wish I could be in Europe for some fucked up adventures. I have too much debt, and not enough time. One day. One day my adventures will trump yours, but for now I just have read about them an donly dream about what could be.
Submitted by Worm (user info) at 2005-08-12 16:33:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
The top half was copied/pasted from an earlier writing session so the margains are a bit off.
Apologies.