Entry 122, July 20th, 2011, 11:00pm (GMT +2)
Yesterday the ship was in Ibiza, and I went with several friends (new and old) to Bora Bora beach. Bora Bora is notorious for being the heart of the party in Ibiza, and so in the spirit of exploration I decided that I needed to visit at least once. Let me tell you, it did not disappoint!
The beach itself is relatively unremarkable (Barbados and Grand Cayman are far more beautiful). You don't go there for the beach, though – you go for the party! Clubs and restaurants stretch the entire length of the water, and the area between the boardwalk and the surf is packed with people. They are mostly young people, either in their twenties or trying to look like they are. Loud music thumps incessantly in the background, so distorted with volume that it becomes nothing but a throbbing beat that sinks down into your bones. Tanned Spaniards grin toothless grins and sell pot. Groups of women with gold tassels glued to their nipples carry around flashing signs advertising strip clubs and whorehouses. Speedboats and jet skis pull inflatable rafts with drunken revelers through the surf until they faceplant into the ocean, roaring with laughter. Men and women wearing swimsuits walk the boardwalk, selling frozen shots, jello shots, tequila, sunglasses, jewelry, hats, tickets to clubs, glowsticks, and everything else. Vendors' stalls and massage booths are squeezed between the clubs, including a “fish massage” where you put your feet in a tank of saltwater and let the fish eat all the dead skin off of your feet. The beach swims in sunscreen, tanning oil, and booze.
We set up camp, joining the crew members that were already there to form a party of about twenty. We'd borrowed Anna's cooler earlier and filled it with drinks (which reminds me – I still owe some people some Euro). There's really not much to tell past that point. We drank the beer until we ran out of beer, then we drank the sangria until we ran out of that, and five hours after our arrival I was drinking cheap vodka straight out of a plastic 1.5 liter jug. Whew! That'll put hair on your chest (something I could have desperately used). People talked, joked, fought, goofed off, got stung by jellyfish, made love, and enjoyed the scenery – all the things that people usually do. It was a good afternoon.
I wish we could've stayed for the evening, but we had to leave just as the party was in transition from day to night in order to catch the boat. Andrea and I talked to the taxi driver in Spanish on the way back (hablo y entiendo castillano muy bien cuando estoy barracho!). The party then continued on the back deck, where whiskey became the drink of choice. I made it until about 2am before going to bed . . . so after you do the math, I was drunk for almost ten hours straight. That's a first.
Needless to say, I had a pretty impressive hangover this morning. I don't want to drink that much again any time soon, but I am glad I went to Bora Bora (for the experience, and because it was fun). Will I go back? I don't know.
Oh, and a little bit of other important news. I sign off the ship on October 2nd and wander Europe for a bit. On the 5th I meet my family for their vacation in Paris (wooo!), and then I wander a bit more until the 20th. On the 20th I meet the Independence of the Seas in Southampton where I am covering someone's month of vacation time. We'll be sailing to Portugal, returning to the Canary islands, and seeing a bit of Spain and Italy again. More details as soon as I get them, but I'm excited to be playing on a different ship for a bit before returning back to the states and I hope that you will enjoy reading about the additional locations here in the blog.
Oh, and I'm flying home November 17th! See some of you then!