WARNING: Massive drugs story.
I lived in Ibiza for ten years and managed to survive the experience, more by luck than judgement. For those that don't know, it's a small island in the Mediterranean sea off the coast of Spain, renowned for massive drugs, alcohol, house music, STDs and general partying until you expire.

I worked hard during the summer season, then in the winter when all the tourists had buggered off, me and the mates would kick back and party hard.....VERY hard. When I look back at what we used to get up to, I shudder at some of the shenanigans that happened.

Anyhoo, after a particularly long sesh where anything we could get hold of was abused as much as possible, we all decided we'd had enough, and as I didn't have much cash left and lived on the other side of the island, I'd have to get the bus home. This seemed a much better option than falling asleep at a mate's house, and waking up to find all of your body hair had been removed and someone had been kind enough to colour you in using permanent markers. I was spannered, and you can't beat your own bed when you're in a state!

It was just starting to get light, so it was probably six a.m or so. Auto-pilot got me to the bus stop without too much bother (and it was downhill, which helps a lot), and having squinted, one-eyed, for about ten minutes I managed to work out that the first bus wasn't due for another hour and a half.

Hmmm...how to make ninety minutes pass in a pleasant way without any more self abuse? The sun was just coming up, and about 100 metres from the bus stop are some steps which take you down to a tiny beach used to launch fishing boats from. That'll do!

''I'll watch the sun come up over the horizon. It'll be ace'', I think, in my wankered state. First mistake; I'm on the west side of the island, and last time I checked the sun comes up in the east. Bugger! I'm down on the beach by now, it's very pleasant and all I can hear is the gentle lapping of sea at the edge of the shore.

So I lay down in the shade and have forty winks. And then I wake up, after what seemed like maybe thirty seconds of kip, and the sun is completely up and I've clearly missed the first bus. Never mind, I climb back up the steps and walk back to the bus stop. Praise the Lord, there's a bus waiting to go so I fumble in my pocket for a couple of Euros, jump on, pay the driver and take a seat.

''He didn't half give me a strange look, that driver'', I thought to myself. ''I must look REALLY wankered still.'' The bus leaves, and every time it stops to pick up passengers, as they walk past me every single one gives me a lingering stare.

Half an hour or so later, I'm back home. Stagger in through the door, have a quick piss, can't wait to hit the sack, clean teeth, look in the mirror.....FFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUCCCCCKKKK!!!!

Imagine Sir Alex Ferguson's face, he takes a big snort of Evo Stick, you staple his mouth shut, stick a peg on his nose and then kick him HARD in the jacobs. (I'd really LOVE to try this!) Imagine how red his face would be, and then multiply it by....ooooh.....a thousand.

I look at my phone and it's 1130, which means I'd been asleep on the beach for around four hours, in which time the sun has cleared my shaded part of the beach and was beating down hard on my distressed body.

I have never been so sore in my life. I couldn't even smile without being in agony. I stayed local for a few weeks until the redness had died down, as if my mates had seen it I'd still be suffering now.

It took the best part of a month until my face had stopped peeling/flaking. I chuckle about it now, but if I'm diagnosed with face cancer in the future, I'll know the reason why.
(Mao's stepson is doing his bit for East/West relation's, Tue 29 Mar 2011, 17:45, 2 replies)

I once got...
...the bus back from pacha around 8.00am and was getting hugely freaked out by stares from the locals and I was only wankered..

Your story reminds me of a Welsh lad at a beach party that'd carried on from the night before who was so fucking sunburned he was maroon and devoid of any sun cream or cognitive thought. I remember being really worried about him...

Oh Ibiza, them were the days.
(Fireyfox is prepared to change, Tue 29 Mar 2011, 17:56, closed)

Them were the days, indeed.
It's not the same now. That's why I left. Way too many new laws to take the fun out of a sesh.....which is probably a good thing for my mental and physical well-being!
(Mao's stepson is doing his bit for East/West relation's, Wed 30 Mar 2011, 4:46, closed)