Lets get the party started in San Antonio

Is 66 too old to go clubbing in Ibiza, so technically I’m a Baby Boomers. This was the first question I asked myself after my mate “The Mechanic” announced he had bought us a short break in Ibiza, as a “thank you” for helping him out. I was also overwhelmed because no one buys me anything much anymore

Ibiza has always been a gap in my back catalogue of life, I’ve been all over the world having a great time, parties, adventures and visiting the best places, but for some reason Ibiza had passed me by and I do enjoy a gritty clubbing night out, so at this late stage in my life, it was a chance to fill the gap, so I said “great, let’s go”.

I did a bit of research and over 40s and 50s seemed to be enjoying it over there, so why not. I had been late into the dance music scene 35 years ago, so had always been one of the oldest in a venue, or “the oldest swinger in town” as my wife puts it and I’m not particularly self conscious.

The thing I try to remember is that I’m a guest in the young people’s world, so it is important to respect them having a good time and get into the spirit of the event, only speak to them if they speak to me, don’t oggle, and don’t be a twat or be one of them. Keep a smile on your face and get into the party mood and nobody has ever troubled me up until now.

The Easyjet Ibiza Express

First challenge was the flight out from Bristol. there were clearly 3 distinct groups heading to Ibiza. Firstly, there were the young ones in their teens or early 20s on their lads or lasses’ holiday and making a lot of noise. The second group were stag and hen weekenders to celebrate something, often with two generations of family involved and they made even more noise getting on the flight, the final group were the grandparents heading to their all-inclusive and full English breakfast holidays. The Mechanic and I tried not to be associated with any group and listened to music looking cool.

The EasyJet steward was French and less than cool, lacked any sense of humour after no doubts a long week and then drawing the Saturday night Ibiza Express shift. As soon as the door shut, he was up on the microphone giving everyone a lecture and warning us that if anyone made any more noise, we would not be going anywhere.

At this point a Welsh hen group told him to cheer up and started singing, in response he threatened to turn the plane around (we had only gone about 25m) if there was anymore lip. So, we headed to Ibiza in a plane full of drunk people who did a lot of sniggering and giggling, mostly uncontrolled, that reached a crescendo after the drinks trolley tour and the alcohol levels had been topped up, we came into land.

San Antonio West End strip

We arrived in Ibiza and made our way to the hotel in San Antonio by midnight. The hotel lobby was full of young people around the age of my youngest lad; he would have been quite at home sitting in reception at midnight staring at his phone as well. So, we quickly unpacked, plugged in my speaker, cranked up the music, opened the duty free and went out on the balcony to see the sights and sounds of San Antonio, including a view of the Eden night club which was next door.

The hotel balconies were full of party goers, so no chance of an early night.

After a quick scrub up we headed to the West End strip (there are a few strips around apparently), a street of bars that seemed to be in place for one purpose, debauchery and fun, not to mention drugs that were on sale on every corner. It had just about every type of entertainment on offer so we settled for an Irish bar as a safe haven to get our bearings and enjoy the fun atmosphere.

To be honest, we were amongst the oldest party goers in town, but it didn’t seem to matter as the party rolled on. We ended up in the Saona bar opposite the Irish Bar (we didn’t have to wander far) with probably the most bonkers DJ I have ever seen, not to mention his mate the Italian answer Eminem who looked a lot better than his singing but it all added up to a great night.

The night drew to a close around 4am and we headed home but not without a bizarre incident. As we headed out of the strip, I was accosted by a woman of the night offering a range of services that I didn’t need, whilst groping around my person. I politely declined her offers and wandered on. 60 seconds later she tapped me on the shoulder and gave me my wallet and ran off.

As you can imagine, I was a bit confused and hugely grateful for her honesty. I assumed she had found it on the floor, so I ran after her to say thank you and to give her some cash as a gift. When I tapped her on the shoulder and said thank you, she looked very confused as well, it was at that point I opened the wallet and found she had already taken a “thank you” in the form of all my cash. However, I still had my cards and driving licence so wandered off happy and 10 euros poorer.

Next day I was amazed we were up in time for breakfast and ready to go after the night before.