I hate when bloggers say this, but I have to. I have failed you as a blogmaster. It has been almost a month since my last post. So much has happened, but I don’t want to be lazy about my updates. I’ll do a few different blog posts about the past month instead of condensing into one mediocre update. So, here we go. Ibiza.
Ibiza is a Spanish island in the Mediterranean Sea. It’s the club capital of the world. And it’s where I spent the weekend of October 14th with my friends Kathleen, Ellen, and Lily. Never before had I gotten a sunburn on the beach in the middle of October, but I guess there’s a first time for everything.
We started out the weekend by exploring our amazing hotel. We had four twin beds, free breakfast and dinner buffets with tons of amazing food, an awesome pool… Oh, and the beach in our backyard. No biggie. Later in the day we went to the beach to obsess over the water, sand, sunset, and our lives in general. A solid 15 minutes were spent writing our names or other things in the sand. Kathleen and I decided to show our Zeta pride with our letters and symbol (the five pointed crown) in an exceedingly beautiful sand drawing. We eventually headed back to the hotel to prepare ourselves for a night out in what we heard was the most insane party city in the world.
Hooooowwwwever, we failed to take into account the fact that the club season had ended a few weeks ago. Don’t get me wrong, we still had an awesome night, but not with the insanity we were expecting. We sat on the beach for a while, having a few drinks and marveling at our awesome lives. Lily and I mixed drinks with peach Schnapps, Sprite, and a coconut rum appropriately called “Ibiza Beach.” I taught Kathleen the life-changing skill of being able to open a beer bottle by anchoring it against a corner and hitting the top. After a while we decided to barhop near our hotel. The “bars,” though, were more like outdoor seating areas with plastic walls. Janky. But fun.
The next day we spent eight glorious hours alternately facedown in the sand and frolicking in the waves. It was so great to have a weekend that was a vacation more than a trip. We didn’t feel like we had to see anything specific or do anything in particular, so we could do whatever we felt like doing whenever we felt like doing it. This, naturally, included a multiple hour long search for obnoxious neon tank tops sporting slogans like “I ❤ IBIZA.”
That night we tried exploring the bars in the downtown area. The night included a seriously cute cab driver (who spoke English!), Kathleen making friends with a 60-year-old Spanish man with a ponytail, three piping hot pizzas (even though we only ordered two), and a dog whom we loved even though he refused to return our affection. Ellen finally got her coveted piña colada. Kathleen did something unspeakable outside of a Santander bank. Too bad security cameras exist, Kitty.
The next day, we decided to spend a few hours on the beach before we headed to the airport. Is this real life? Barely. Amazingly, Lily stayed a third night by herself because she didn’t have any Monday classes. So Kath, Ellen and I ran to the aeropuerto, leaving Lily behind to make Ibiza her bitch.