In making the most of our dream holiday, we decided to go to the beach!
A good idea before you go to Ibiza is to look up what concerts are on. The biggest acts play throughout the summer on the island. Luckily, we were lucky to catch a gig the week we went on holiday – otherwise we could have returned home with a strange addiction to house music.
When attending a beach in Ibiza expect to be harassed senselessly about buying tickets for concerts. And needless to say, we were approached…..
Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell you about how we were involved in Taken Part III – but these lads approached us. Being classy ladies downing cans, we paid them attention. BIG MISTAKE! They were your worst nightmare promotion guys that would not feck off!
We were not warned about the promo lads and the four naive ladies from Cavan bought into the charm of these Geordie Shore style wankers and listened about the package.
They were selling a three-hour free bar, transfers to the place (I can’t remember the name, it was on a boozy holiday) and entry to Calvin Harris for 75 yoyos.
Seeing as Calvin Harris tickets were €55, it was a good deal and we handed over our €20 deposit. We would be seeing Calvin in 24 hours’ time, but tonight we were heading to Ibiza Rock to see Hackney’s finest Professor Green.
Then after applying layers and layers of sun cream, we were definitely ready, and we basked in the sun for a couple of hours. Amazingly, none of us burnt – or so I thought.
Unfortunately, I forgot to put sun cream on my face, making it looked as though I was constantly embarrassed. Damn you sun!
So off to Professor Green we went, with the hope of seeing famous socialite Millie Mackintosh. And they did not disappoint.
Easily the best concert any of us had ever been too, even though we may have been on a vodka and Red Bull buzz! The crowd was mental and we got free into a nightclub after. #RESULT
Day two was Calvin Harris and it wasn’t a lie to say that we awoke with a slightly hazy head.
However we wiped it off and spent the day topping up our tan – all of us had been caking on the sun cream and looking paler than we had leaving Dublin airport.
As our tickets said, we had the free bar from 9pm, so after pre-drinking we left the apartments at eight prepared to get more drink on.
The bar was apparently 10 minutes up the road – an HOUR later, we were closer but still not there. Strike one for our beach friends.
We arrive and as promised there was a free bar… a small one, but a bar all the same.
It was 9.10pm and the place was half full. Then it hit 9.20 and the place was jammed. You had to wait nearly half an hour for a drink of very diluted vodka. I was not impressed – I mean, what was it with this free bar?
We continued with our glasses of 7up until 10.30 when myself and another girl decided we would go supermarket and get a nagin of some shite, when we came across the most perfect solution – a litre bottle of Spanish vodka for €6.
When we were leaving the supermarket a promo girl on the street called us over. We explained our poor predicament about being practical scammed by two Geordie whores. She was very understanding, offering us rounds of shot and half price drinks. Could we refuse?
No, we couldn’t and it resulted in a lot of shots, spirits and a lot of Irish dancing. The rest of the night was a little bit of a blur, from walking up some dirty back alley to get a bus to bring us to the Calvin concert.
To be honest, I’m not sure what time of night we arrived at The Warehouse.
It was packed full of other music lovers, but Calvin rocked up on stage around 4am, and by that stage we were beginning to sober up.
He was amazing and we got to see Rita Ora giving it socks beside him – but maybe if we were doing it again, we wouldn’t have started our session at 8 o clock and chugged a lot of dodgy vodka.
Let’s just say we weren’t in the best of form the morning after…