You know that song? It's something like ...."wherever I lay my hat, that’s my home?" Well for me 'Home' is certain people: the girls, specific family members, the flat brothers too now and of course, Tallulah. Whenever I am with them, no matter where we are I feel at peace. Safe, happy and secure in that we will all be exactly ourselves. There is no 'behaving' or watching what you do or say.And over the years certain places have brought out that feeling in me too. I can be totally alone in specific spots of London, or areas abroad, I feel completely at home. Ibiza is one of them.
We had been going out the first weekend in August for my birthday for years now, and whilst this was the 1st summer it didn’t work out (getting time off work-wise with the squad - for some context one of the bubbas had 6 weddings she was bridesmaid at + 6 hen dos to attend) I ended up going out with flat brother two (lets call him Drew) and his lovely GF (lets call her Laura).
"Bloody hell Tinderella - why were you crashing their holiday" I hear you ask?
Well "Cos they asked me too" and if you are silly enough to say the words "come for a weekend in Ibiza!" to me I will have booked a flight before you can blink. I could only fit in two days of their trip so to make the most of the mini break I flew out from London City Airport on Friday morning (it was only A nifty 17 mins on the DLR from our Stratford) And just over 2 hours later my mini zebra-print hand-luggage sized bag of tricks and I touched down in lbiza Town.
Now 100% if you wobble down the strip in the West End of San Antonio on a casual Wednesday night you might as well be in any bog standard sh!te hole in any given place in the world that’s geared up for tourists. I would bet that at least two babies a night are conceived on the dance floor in Soul-City alone throughout high season. So my advice is don't go down the bloody strip, unless of course, that’s your jam. Ushuaia, Ocean Beach, Ibiza Rocks and Zoo are my faves for dancing. I much prefer being outside and near a pool to a super club. I mean they're cool, but once you've spent 5 hours and 20 euros a pop trying to get a drink and another 3 hours queuing for a wee, sweating with 5,000 other ravers in Amnesia the shine wears off.
Oh and if you haven't already - get your self paragliding at sunset over Mambos. And the jet skis. AND the inflatable assault course set up in the sea outside Ocean Beach is exactly like going on Total wipe out. Your Glitter will wash off in the sea, but Glitter-My-Fairy is only a 5 min walk away for a touch up. Plus its megabucks fun.
Drew and Laura weren’t coming out until that evening and being such a last min trip, I was actually just looking forward to a day on my own in the sun exploring the lushness again. I ubered from the airport to San-Antonio and went shopping. Wandering round in the sunshine wearing only a bikini, shorts and flip-flops. (My absolute fave outfit of life) I couldn't of been happier. I got everyone the presents they asked for, and went to the Skinny Kitchen for lunch. Sat outside in the sun looking out at the ocean eating a spicy chicken avo salad sipping on a slimline tonic, I couldn't felt more chilled out.
And I made friends. Walking round the island you will see plenty of chavs. But also LOTS of sexy happy people too. Just like the promoter guy out front guiding tourists in the bar next to where I was sat. He came over so many times he got a telling of from his boss “In your own time Ryan Mate” It was clear that our Ryan (Cheeky, tanned tasty and from Brighton) did this a lot.. Still, I let him have my facebook. And he still messages, Crimbo and Vday. #SingleLife. After lunch I went to Café Del Mar for more for the sea-views and #IbizaVibes. Sipping another Slimline tonic I was asked for my digits, by the waiter this time. He was cute and I gave it to be polite. As I sat there on the wifi I had a swipe. Turns out even though you can't move in ibiza without "making friends" Tinder was also lit.
Now I was just doing this to pass the time. And all this lot turned out to want was a holiday bang. I was on a budget time-wise, and having waited so long, I still wasn't in any rush to give it up to anyone. Especially just because they had wifi and the balls to ask. As the day drew on I went back to the hotel and got ready to meet Drew and Laura for our first night out. On my way over a fireworks display kicked off in the distance over Ocean Beach and I remember standing amongst the crowd of other holiday-makers, all of us taking snaps and just loving life. This place was 100% a bit of me: warm, hot men for days, amazing music, endless parties, boom food and it was absolutely expected that you rolled yourself in glitter before leaving the house. AND random fireworks just cos.
Drew and Laura were both in a delicious holiday mood when I met them and we spent that first night getting in a total mess dancing like ninnys. Unfortunately Drew got his phone nicked. #WhiteIsleLife #CrimeIsRife. This happened to me my first trip out years ago, and everyone you meet with out fail with have someone in there group who has had a smart-phone pinched on their trip. So again - if you didnt know, theres a whole sticky underscene of people out there making a living knicking phones. It's always the same story. 3am tipsy and someone bumps into you. and ping there goes your phone. So keep it in your pants - or leave it in the safe. One thing I promise you is you will get way more off your face than you ever planned out here. And someone will be waiting and watching to snatch your £600 smartphone. #DontFudingLetEm
The next morning we were booked in for our session at ocean and another day was spent playing. In spite of the tinder kick-off and the people we met, I was more interested in enjoying the jacuzzi and day bed we had booked. I did snog a dude from essex, but it was more because he ended up in front of me and asked nicely near the end of the night - rather than because I was DTF.
That night I had a call off Mr promoter. and the Waiter. But my own bed by that time was more attractive than theirs. And I was flying home at 10.30am the following morning as I had to be back for SW4 on the Monday with the girls. So I politely said no.
Waking up late in a panic (two showers and the glitter still hadn’t all come off) I set off for the airport. As always, I wanted to cry leaving that place but like a big baby I got in the queue for security with my two day hangover in tow. Looking for my flight on the screen, I couldn’t see it but I was too diminished to care. It was only when I tried to swipe the e-ticket on my phone over the scanner I noticed it wouldn’t work and as security got the strop, that I realised I may be in trouble.
Being a tw*t I had brought the latest Samsung 7edge as it had the best camera phone going at the time (I had defected from AppleLife for this reason alone) And the little bish hadn't updated the time difference. It’s only an hour, but my flight had left 30 mins ago. Sans Moi. Standing there being bitched out by the airport staff I just remember thinking. 'You don’t need to tell me I am a wally Lucia - I am well aware. So I went and got in a 40 min queue downstairs. Explained my whiny story to a bored operative who didn’t give a flying fudge, and dropped £172 on the next available flight back to London City in 7 hours time.
By this point I was ready to sit on the floor and throw a wobbly. But in the end I thought, "oh fudge it, there are way worse places to be stuck" And I ubered back across the island to the Skinny Kitchen. Sat again by the ocean sipping on a peanut-butter-chocolate protein shake and flicking through my tinder inbox I cheered up. Drew and Laura were in Bora Bora for the day and sans phones after Drews robbing, Laura has left her phone safely in the hotel. So I agreed to meet the first tinder that bit back. Lets call him...Jake for a drink in Bora Bora Beach Bar. Jake was from West London, looked hot enough, and was out here on a stag. I finished my food and ubered back over to Playa den Bossa to meet him using the whatsapp location he sent. I was leaking cash at this point. But I was too hungover to give a sh!t. Jake met me out the cab and I had a mild shock. He was a good 3 stone heavier than the photos he had been using.
As I mentioned in my first post. Catsfishing is everywhere and annoying for the dishonesty. I've been bang in love with a dude before who wasn't exactly skinny. And whilst nowadays on tinder especially you only have a photo to go on, I remain a firm believer that appearance isn’t everything. You need to find someone that gets you hot for sure. For me though it's always been about the personality. A five can become the only one you see in the room if you connect like that. And when swiping on appearance, I fully admit I would chose a hot body over an average one, time and time again I have found the prettiest ones lack in substance over what they hold in looks.
This isn’t always true, but I would be super-surprised if I ended up with a smoking hot monkey. Give me a guy who knows how to play any day over some posey-gym fucker who's more into his insta account than having fun.
The catfish and I killed the time happily enough. He was a bit spoilt, and a stereotypical private school kid with ego issues, but we both loved London and Ibiza so we were cool. I had to give him the cheek though when the time came to uber back to the airport. #NoKissesForCatfishes. And Queuing to catch my second flight I got a call off one of the tinder’s I had been casually chatting to from back in London.
Lessons learned
1) Add them on some form of social media. Early days. It's ridiculously invasive but it saves agg down the line. Insta is best where ever possible as it's less personal - and will instantly tell you if they are who they say they are.
2) Ibiza is still and will always remain amazing. But only if you do it right.
The catfish still texts at crimbo, on v-day and (I am guessing) when ever he is bored. I dont reply.