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I can barely see to write I’m so exhausted. For the first time in years, I’ve just ‘done’ closing weekend. In true Ibiza fighting spirit I have dependents and responsibilities so despite hell and high water we are up, kids at school and working.
Going to a club in Ibiza on an ordinary day, is a big commitment, let alone during closing weekend. First there is the matter of what to wear. Now, if you pitched up in jeans or shorts no one would blink an eyelid but let’s face it, this is also one of those opportunities you’ll have to go to town. A few weeks back I saw this incredible bodysuit slash leotard shiny tassly number at the sparkling boutique in Babylon Beach. It was a lot of euro for a little fabric. Mutton, lamb, I hear you mutter, maybe, I respond but if you can’t do it here, or as a contestant on Strictly, then where else? I nearly bottled out, but my desperation allowed my ego to be boosted by my 10 year old daughter, who told me how amazing the ‘item’ was (I honestly don’t think it has a name as a garment in its own right). OH thought I was joking, then assumed it was for aforementioned daughter. Luckily our first closing weekend stop was at Ushuaia and their Super Hero closing theme gave every punter a satin (polyester) cape and mask. So just before I could become completely self conscious about the bits that were sticking out where they really shouldn’t have been, bearing in mind most of the rest of the revellers looked like super-models or worse still, those who could have been super-models but turned the gig down in favour of loftier pursuits, my cotton candy pink superhero cape came into its own. Within half an hour I had one round my shoulders and a second donated one around my waist.
Ushuaia was full to the brim, despite a cool €80 entry charge, if a €25,000 table isn’t your post-Brexit speed, Ibiza dwellers are tribal about their clubs, those devoted to Ushuaia won’t hear a word against it. No matter that closing line-up was un-star studded, that it closed barely past midnight, it’s the vibe that people come for, the Ushuaia branded vibe that transcends what is coming out of it’s speakers or what time you get home.
Then we did what few people dare to do. We crossed the road (I’ll come clean, we went home, slept, had a normal Sunday and came back out again, albeit this time I just wore black) trudged up the car park and entered the great institution that is Space. Ushuaia was saying good bye for a season (again official, not technical, the doors will be open for a few post-closing parties yet) but for Space the party is nearly really over. Tickets had been issued slowly over the past few weeks, the usual VIP/guest list routes dried up, back to its egalitarian routes, people queued for hours in great humour and most had the best party they’d had in years. OH and I are far too sad, old and responsible to participate in these parties in the way many do, but even to us and our sensible companions, the atmosphere was electric. From the outside terrace bathed in a beautiful end of day sunlight, to the inside spaces, sweaty and dazzling in purple and pink, I understand, as a woman who doesn’t understand dance music particularly, how it requires little explanation, little analysis, beyond its ability to unite thousands and thousand of people, moved by a beat.
Much like our beloved island of Ibiza.
ADDENDUM: Someone has just told me that they heard from someone that knows that Space will be putting on a party for New Years’ Eve. This will be the closing that keeps on closing. Here’s hoping.