The Island That Never Sleeps

Sure, Julia Roberts might have spent the summer sunning herself on a beach in Hawaii and Kate Beckinsale lived the Mexico high life, but when it comes to a party holiday destination, the White Isle is the celebrities’ choice. And it just so happens to be mine too.

 

As the grand old age of 25 threatened to descend (less than a week now – eekums), I considered it a travesty that I hadn’t yet visited Ibiza for a fun-filled holiday and three of my closest friends agreed. A few months later and we were all leaving work (the Friday before last) to hop straight on a plane to the hedonistic island, with our shortest shorts and colour-pop bikinis packed for the closing parties of the season.

I’ve often pored over images of Kate Moss, Jade Jagger and Paris Hilton living it up in Ibiza, and while our budget didn’t quite stretch to a luxury villa or yacht, the celebrity haunts were in our sights. First stop, Hed Kandi at Es Paradis. (We’d been promised a glimpse of Ms Moss, as she was there to launch a new E4 show but alas, I can’t report a celebrity sighting.)
So back to our own Ibiza experience. At first look the club reminded me of a dentist’s workspace – clean lines and white floors – but as we ventured further in, we found a circular dancefloor surrounded by multi level steps that was by far the most fun venue I’ve ever been in. Add to that the circus/burlesque dancers and Tara McDonald singing our favourite Hed Kandi tunes (My, My, My anyone?) and our first night as Ibiza clubbers was a success.

 

The next few days were a blur of dancing on the beach at Bora Bora, raving at Space (where I was lucky enough to dance the night away to a set from Too Many DJs – the boys haven’t lost any of their appeal since I fell in love with them at V Festival two years ago), watching the beautiful sunset at Café Del Mar and bouncing up and down to the beat of Pacha.
But the real treat came in the form of Ibiza Rocks closing party. Touted as a gig rather than a club night, the headliners have performed poolside in the San Antonio Ibiza Rocks’ hotel all season. Knowing that Florence and The Machine, Dizzee Rascal and Calvin Harris had all taken to the stage earlier this summer, we hoped for an even better act to play the final gig and booked our tickets in advance. On hearing our much anticipated top billing was 90s punk band The Specials, we were a tad disappointed. No Pendulum? Or even The Ting Tings? My friend A.L assured us that The Specials were the kind of band you had to see once in your lifetime (up there with The Clash and Queen apparently) so we bit our tongues and rallied round in old fashioned Ibiza spirit, with many a rum and coke to see us through.

 

We needn't have worried. After 20-odd years of performing, the band knew exactly what they were doing and the poolside crowd were soon skanking and raving away like something out of a music video. So what if we couldn't sing along to all (make that any) of the songs or have uncles younger than the musicians – we were all united in our quest, to party hard and dance like it was the last chance we’d ever get.

Which, for this year at least, it was. After heading to the after party at Es Paradis – ah, so we meet again multi-level dancefloor – it was back to the apartment to quickly pack our cases and head to the airport, with Ibiza Rocks glitterpaint still adorning our faces.

All in all, it was an amazing experience – one of the best holidays I’ve ever had. And it’s safe to say that if I had a celebrity budget, I’d be rocking out in Ibiza every season - from onboard my luxury yacht, obviously.

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