Okay, so Ibiza is pretty awesome.
EXPENSIVE AS SHIT, but awesome.
Club culture is pretty much ever-present here. Your plane lands and you’re immediately given a bag full of promotional material about Pacha, Amnesia, Space, and all the other major clubs. There’s house music playing everywhere, like a constant theme song. On the beach, you’re approached by costume-clad girls offering you promotional materials. People on stilts hand out flyers while you’re out to eat.
It’s surreal; it’s definitely not real life. For our first real night out we decided to go to the foam party since we had never experienced one before.
One thing we should have known: in Ibiza, everything is done on a much larger scale. It wasn’t going to be just a typical foam party; it was going to be completely over-the-top. We were blissfully unaware of this.
We left for the club and immediately had our cameras confiscated at the entrance. No one’s allowed to take any pictures, so we had to leave ours with a staff member (while a friend of mine hid hers and brought it in anyway).
Tip #1: Don’t arrive at Amnesia 5 and a half hours before the foam party’s supposed to start. The DJ played deep, repetitive house music the entire time, which nearly lulled us to sleep. We actually took a power nap by sitting on the stairs and leaning on each other’s shoulders.
Tip #2: As I mentioned before, Ibiza is expensive. Drink before you get there or enjoy paying $20+ per drink all night.
When the time got closer, we made sure to get a prime spot right in the middle of the dance floor. We stood there for an hour as the cannons adjusted and the speakers riled everyone up.
Then the countdown began: it was finally happening. We cheered at the top of our lungs as all of the cannons aimed STRAIGHT at us and began to fire.
…We immediately swallowed a mouthful of soapy water. This wasn’t the light, fluffy foam I had been envisioning–it was thick. It was like a torrent of water shooting right at me. I wiped the foam from my face, only to get sprayed with more. I wiped again, and again, and sucked it down my nostrils as I tried to breathe and realized I couldn’t. I ducked down close to the floor but was still inundated with foamy water there, too. The foam was covering my eyes and I couldn’t see anything.
My friends and I immediately started to panic. Despite being in a packed crowd, we all scattered and blindly tore through people in different directions. We weren’t the only ones–a lot of people in the middle had the same reaction. I elbowed and shoved my way out of range of the cannons. Someone nearby me fell down and people were screaming to let her up. Luckily, she was brought her to her feet. I finally made it to the edge of the crowd and was able to breathe. My friend ended up running at a barrier, screaming for help, and throwing herself over it. She ran outside where a bunch of foam-covered girls were crying hysterically.
We all eventually found each other and embraced. Then what did we do?
We took a moment. Then, we went back into the foam.
The cannons weren’t on full blast anymore. Besides the strange man who tried to drag my friend underneath the waist-high bubble bath, the rest of the party went smoothly.
We showed up at our family-oriented hotel completely drenched, in our club clothes, at breakfast time.
Lessons learned: #1. Ibiza is intense, #2. Bring an oxygen tank for the foam parties.