14th:
A week in Ibiza with a group of friends. After a slight mishap with the villa booking, we were offered a free upgrade to a quite luxurious hilltop retreat.
Not far from the villa we met Dedmaus within moments of arriving. Stay tuned for a picture!
My plan to not drink went out the window on the first night. We drove the hire cars into the town and left them there overnight, one of the benefits of Spain's lax parking laws. Went to Zebra restaurant with the full group, including friends who were staying at another villa. It was the only night we were all together, around 20 of us, so we thought a meal would be the perfect opportunity for us all to meet. After a few drinks in the fun-but-chavvy west end, (where young podium dancers made a concerted effort to show off their thongs above their shorts at every possible moment) we got a taxi back to the villa where we gatecrashed a Spanish wedding party on the other side of a vineyard next door to us. I think they latched on that we were a bunch of drunken Brits, rolling into their marquee in shorts and vests and flip flops, contrasting with their open-collar suits. The bride was nowhere to be seen. I crashed out through exhaustion after this.
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