Circo Loco and other Stories.....

  Ibiza, Spain
Monday, September 25, 2006

Only three short but therapeutic hours of sleep later, we were awaken by Ross's banging on our door. We had overslept and everyone was waiting for us to move on to Circo Loco at DC-10. He said they would all meet us there so we quickly got into our party gear and rushed downstairs to find a cab. Thankfully we didn't need to know the address, all we said was "A DC-10 por favor" and the driver already knew where to go. Only in Ibiza.

Ten minutes and a bunch of turns later, we came to an open space where DC-10 was hidden. Far away from all the hotels, clubs, shops and people, DC-10 seemed the perfect place to be naughty and not get caught. What I had heard about DC-10 so far was promising: an underground place where the most hard core clubbers always end up. Or as DJ Mag describes it: "Some nights need publicity, others don't. Circo Loco is one of those parties where word of mouth will do. It's no coincidence it's the best rave on the island." or "Anarchy and downright savagery. Which is all you need to know. See you in the ditch." Lovely.

02 Locos bout CircoLoco

As we approached, I heard the incredibly loud music coming from the terrace of the outside room. I wondered how I was to cope with the loud volume inside if outside I was already covering my ears. The entrance fee was 30€, a relief to our wallets which were already growing thin only on the second day.

Circo Loco was one of those parties where famous guests are left outside (Puff Daddy, for example wasn't allowed in. HA!) and where freaks hit the dance floor....hard. That's why I instantly loved it so much. As Ross said: "It's the bollocks!!"

There were two rooms, one inside and one outside. Apparently the outside one was where you had to be, where some Dj was spinning cool minimal clickety-click music. There was a clear transparent roof above us, letting the sun in and allowing us to observe all the faces of the people already there...some scary, others scared. Not too many people

04 Smartie Partie Family

were present yet, but all were dancing, in a trance. Minimal does that to you: even though some might find it monotonous, you find yourself dancing without even noticing it....always.

It was extremely hot so Ross and I rushed over to the DC-10 souvenir shop (apparently every club here has one) and we each bought a 5€ DC-10 fan; not the battery operated kind, but the Spanish kind, or the kind that you can make out of paper by folding and counter-folding the sides, like in kindergarten. That kind. So with my new glamorous fluorescent green fan, I hit the dance floor once again, fanning myself and everyone around me. Bless DC-10 souvenirs.

07 Getting Crowded

At around 2pm, people started appearing from God-knows-where and little by little the once spacious outside room became more crowded than the 6th circle of Hell. Not because everyone was waking up from the night before....no, no, people don't sleep here. Rather because the infamous, talented, amazing, freaky, insane Tanya Vulcano was to start playing shortly. We could all see through the crowd, the Circo Loco star getting her records ready as Security gorillas approached the Dj booth and sealed it off.

As soon as she started playing, the crowd cheered, arms up in the air and all. If there's anyone reading this who's had the pleasure of witnessing Tanya Vulcano play, you'll know how her uninterested and cold yet very cool demeanor just make you love her more and more.

08 And she's Off!!

And as much as we love Tanya, DC-10 was getting a little too hot and crowded for us, so as the clock bells chimed 5 pm, we headed out towards our next destination. My ears rang with an annoying high pitched sound. That's the only thing I have to criticize: there was nowhere in the club to escape the loud thump of the speakers; it was as if they were strategically placed to make you get back to the dance floor where you belong. I tried to find spaces where the music wouldn't hurt my ears but it was useless. It was also comforting to see I wasn't the only one who was hurting: I saw many people wearing professional clubber's ear plugs. Gotta get me some of those.

In the cab we rode in silence, wondering how we were going to make it to Bora-Bora, where Smartie Partie was hosting a party, without collapsing out of exhaustion. The infamous outdoor club just breaths away from the shore was to be our next stop in this mental-madness holiday.

We got there dragging our feet, and Trace, who had gotten there a few hours earlier to set everything up, questioned our state and blamed it on DC-10. He was right to do so. We sat down on a table in the terrace where people were already assembling to dance under the sun, on the tables and over chairs, in pairs or in quadruples, with little clothes on and sweat, sweat, sweat. We watched from our table, sipping our drinks, unable to move, but enjoying the under-the-sun feast of the flesh.

17 From the Beach

When the sun started going down, energy filled me from somewhere and I picked my bag of bones up to start moving to the dirty house beats of the adorable Alex Miles, Bora-Bora's most important resident. As I started swaying, other Smartie Partie members found the will and the courage to start dancing as well, and in no time we were setting the dance floor on fire. I met Johnny, a Brazilian Dj resident in London, who really knew how to move his skeleton, and as I tried to mimic his moves, he grew compassionate and slowed down for me.

23 Sun going down

Nighttime overcame Bora-Bora and more and more people started arriving, more sweat was spilled and more calories were consumed by the second. Ed, Bernie and I could not stop dancing and we bounced around the inside room, mesmerized by the amazingly fun music that was being played.

29 Victorious

At midnight the terraces were closed and the Disco was opened, where Alex Miles would play yet again. By that time I was consumed with exhaustion, so instead of dancing and wasting my last few grams of energy, I sat and people-watched until 4 am. By that time Ed and Bernie had both gone back to the hotel to shower and change, and came back to get me as they knew my state was pitiful.

33 Bora Bora Tattoo 1

When we got back to the hotel, we were walking down the hallway to our room, when we noticed that the door was wide open and the light was on. We all froze and instead of moving or talking, we just stared. As Ed slowly walked inside, I thought to myself: "please God tell me Ed forgot to close the door or something" but instead my prayers were shattered when Ed peered in and exclaimed, "Shit, we've been robbed".

All my happiness and lightheartedness disappeared as soon as I walked in and saw our room trashed, my personal belongings all over the place, including my underwear, my clothes, my now empty purse and wallet. It was not a nice feeling to know someone had been going through our personal things. But the worse part was to come, when we counted the money and objects that were missing: around 1000 €, a camera with millions of pictures from DC-10 and the night before, Ed's cell phone, some jewelry, even our crappy worthless sunglasses, which I loved.

We instantly called the night receptionist who, in turn, called the local police. We all just sat there in silence wondering how this was going to affect our stay in Ibiza. We had no money left, only the small change we had in our pockets. All in all, we blamed ourselves for not keeping our money and valuables in the hotel's safety deposit box, but we just never imagined that someone would break in our hotel room to steal. Never even crossed our minds. I guess I am naive like that but this will teach me for future travel experiences to never leave anything behind, no matter where I am.

Saddened, we organized and tidied up our trashed room and went to bed, trying to forget the whole thing and rest. A horrible ending to an amazing day.