PASSPORT BRO'S: A TRIP TO IBIZA, SPAIN

As told by, a brotha from Atlanta

Many years ago, I read an online article ranking Ibiza, Spain the number one party city in the world! The party island - not town but Island - retains the spot.

My early twenty year old self glanced over the author's words with question but not disbelief. Despite my familiarity with VIP experiences, backstage access to concerts and festivals, plus partaking in plenty, exclusive activities with socialites, my party animal instinctively knew t.

At 31, I set out seeking truth on a pilgrimage to party.

My close friend Dolphy (his nickname) accompanied me. Dolphy, Mexican but racially ambiguous, stands at 6’3.” He has a deep voice, ironically loves country music, is a little bougie and yes, he gets the ladies! Dolphy is my favorite friend to travel with. He and I are always on the same page while also okay giving each other space to do our own thing. Luckily, we share interest in booze and women!

Our layover from Barcelona, Spain touched down around brunch. With brunch & Bloody Marys on our mind, we were eager to drop our things and sniff out the nearest bar. A cab took us to the O Beach Hotel a Sant Antoni situated beside the notorious O Beach Club - an epic day/pool party happening everyday. Wrapped around the corner, at the base of our lodging awaited an empty patio overlooking the boardwalk's peaceful cove. Beach vibes were in the atmosphere as modest amounts of people walked, swam, and laid in the sand. Being far from crowded, the noise levels were low enough for the cute bartender to overhear Dolphy and I as we approached. Her eyes enthusiastically shifted, revealing surprise and an allure to our obvious accents. It was all up from there!

#NoCap Ibiza showed us love off the strength of America. Yes, “to be a conscious Black Man[Person] in America is to be in a constant state of rage!” - James Baldwin. I reserve my qualms with my country of nationality and never put on in front of fellow citizens (hell, I kneel for the pledge). But to hear, “I love your accent” and “I loath English accents [guys] but love Americans. They’re way cooler” is hard to match! Trust, my friend and I got game already but I can definitely appreciate the one-up.

So, what did we do outside of drink, chase women and did we pop a pill in Ibiza like the song? To answer the last question first, what I will say is, we didn’t get arrested for breaking any laws. Dolphy and I made friends everywhere we went. The beach, on pit stops while riding mopeds through the countryside but mostly partied, a lot! On a yacht, in some random backroom, day parties and some of the most epic clubs.

At any given time, somewhere on the island, a party or rave is happening. Night clubs typically open at 10am, people trickle in around midnight but the party doesn’t crank up until 2am (probably because that’s when party goers really start rollin!). The club lets out after the sun has risen and then, people go to the after hours!

One evening, Dolphy and I partied at the Hi to catch Black Coffee - a South African, world renowned Dj. This club is HUGE! It’s like 3 estates put together. Luckily, Dolphy and I ran into a different bartender we met our first night in town. Major traveling key: connect with a bartender or server. They typically offer sound advice on the best local places, eats and activities. This particular bartender happened to be THE PLUG. She was helllla connected. Almost playing host, her and her friend, both gorgeous, guided us throughout the club, introducing us to several of their acquaintances and “party culture.”

What I absolutely love about clubs in Ibiza is that people actually party! Singing, dancing or at least fist pumping or head bobbing. Compared to Atlanta where people go to the club just to post up and mean mug. Atlanta nightlife is all about the flex and being seen whereas in Ibiza, no one really gives AF. People are dressed in designer but there are no strict dress codes. Dropping bank on bottles and sections is a thing but aren’t needed to elevate your status. There’s too little time to learn about anyone on paper. Connections are truly made off vibes. And most clubs offer different rooms that offer different vibes. That’s what I liked about the Hi most. We could party in the main room watching the main Dj sets, or turn up even harder in a packed room with even faster pace music. Or, step out outside to one of the various patios and duck off into a private tent to indulge in more party favors.

We were inside when Dj Coffee’s set ended. We were herded outside and to my surprise, the Sun stood high in the sky. To my surprise it was past 8am maybe 8:30'ish if I recall. Our lovely host asked if wanted to go to the after hours. Huh? I’m trying to get some Waffle House and sleep! Dolphy and I had been up and doing stuff since 11am the previous morning. But hey, #SleepIsForSuckas! I’m on vacay and in Spain. Eff it!

Thank God we had the eff it in our system. During the night, our host introduced us to one of her homeboys. We piled up in his car and drove about 20 minutes to the country side. We parked in a lot at remote location where two blacked out sprinter vans awaited. This is the part where I started to question that “eff it in my system.” I’ve seen the movie hostel and the drivers stepping out the murdered out sprinter also wearing all black with shades on didn’t help allude my thoughts back to the movie. “Damn, what am I about to get us into” I thought. I looked to my friend Dolphy who was smiling and cool as always. “Well, if shit pops off, at least I got this giant with me.”

We piled up into the van, plus a new face - a young lady and acquaintance to our host. The new friend bore an arm sleeve and botoxed lips - common to this part of the globe. Her orange tinted shades with gold trim exposed nonchalant eyes that awfully resembled hustlers I’ve come across. She hardly looked our way and only spoke Spanish while the van drove us along a dirt road. Without a trace of civilization in site, we lost range of a cell tower and my phone was dying.

After about 15 minutes of quietly wondering whether or not Dolphy and I will ever see home again, I spotted one of those Hollywood hills type homes. It was a villa! The secret location mounted on top of a cliff, overlooked the beach and the nearest neighboring home was a mile or two away on a separate cliff. And like some Hollywood type shit, ladies sunbathed around a large pool crafted to cater to a Goddesses delight. We just missed the rave in the basement but that was because the party moved outside. There was an outside bar and a Dj bumping house music kept the party on the deck live well past my leave around 4pm - so I heard from Dolphy who left a few hours later. He and I both almost ended up stranded there but we each found our way.

I’m pretty sure we both slept for 12 hours afterwards and when we finally left Ibiza, we spent the entire next day recovering in Barcelona.

This is just a snippet of my adventure. How can I pack 5 nights into a couple paragraphs? Plus, everyone has different interests and questions. Most often, people ask “what about the food!?” Food was great! I learned about Paella - Spain’s national dish, paella is seafood over rice … In summary, I like to end on this. Ibiza captivated my heart and spirit. Ibiza tamed my party animal and welcomed me into its Island spirit. Ibiza is joy, peace, love and happiness!