Ibitha y Barthelona

            Our trip to Ibiza and Barcelona could’ve easily been a manuscript for another Hangover sequel. Starting on the plane, Patrick got his bottle of wine confiscated by the flight attendant and an announcement was made over the PA that passengers were not allowed to drink their own alcohol on board. That should’ve been a sign we needed to cool it, but unfortunately it was just first event in an evening that felt like it lasted a week.

VIP balcony at Eden

            We checked in to Hotel Florida, or Flo-Rida as we came to know it, and were all profusely sweating from the combination of the foreign heat and no air conditioning. Once we all got our bearings, we headed out to club Eden for Sean Paul and ended up getting VIP tickets. We had access to more secluded bars in the club and a balcony view of the mosh-pit of chaos going on down below. Remi scored a bottle of Gray Goose just as Sean Paul was coming on, probably sometime around 3 am. Before I knew it, Caldwell – a self proclaimed “non-clubber” – was amongst the down stairs crowd fist pumping in his bright orange polo like a Jersey Shore cast member.

Caldwell clubbin'

            The next series of events are all a little hazy, as everything usually is when you’re still out at 5 am. Half of us got kicked out, Caldwell got punched in the face, Becca got lost, and Remi stepped on a shard of glass that made a cut big enough to need medical attention. Somehow Derek escaped all this madness and made it back to Flo-Rida unscathed. As the rest of us sat in the sketchy Ibiza hospital while Remi got stitches in her foot, a couple of guys ran in looking for a doctor and yelling that their friend had just fallen off a balcony down the street. The doctors said there was nothing they could do and paramedics would be on their way, and continued sewing up Remi’s foot.

            In one of the most disturbing scenes I’ve ever witnessed, the guy died after 20 minutes of failed attempts at CPR. I honestly think his life could’ve been saved if the accident happened in another country, and I couldn’t help but think that could’ve easily been one of us. There was no way I could go to sleep now, so Becca, Ryan and I walked down the beach and recapped everything that had happened in the past 12 hours. We didn’t want any of this to ruin our trip, so we went back to Flo-Rida to wake everyone else up to go to the pool. We had a great day getting pitchers of sangria and enjoying the sun, and even got Remi on a raft with her foot out of the water. Caldwell continued to earn his Ibiza MVP award as our designated cabana boy for the day.

Privilege show

            Becca, Ryan and re-born Caldwell left on the over-night ferry that night, and Remi went to go stay with her Godmother that lives in Ibiza because her foot was getting infected. That left Patrick, Derek and myself for another night in Ibiza, so we went out in hopes of a far less dramatic evening. We went to Privilege, a club that made anywhere in Vegas seem like a place for amateurs. 4 balconies overlooked a monstrosity of a dance floor with a pool in the center, all surrounding a giant stage. Nearly 7,000 people are there every night... I’ve never seen anything like it.

Ice Bar in Barcelona

            After 2 hours of sleep in 2 days, I was all clubbed out by the time we got to Barcelona.  It was my 3^rd time back there, so I took them to all my favorite places I remembered and a few new ones I had heard about.  I think the energizer bunny may have possessed Patrick that weekend, so his adrenaline kept us all going. Despite Ryan Air’s 90 degree angle seats that don’t recline, I had no problems sleeping the whole 2 hour flight home. I’ve never been so excited to get back to Shanowen, only after we made a quick pit stop to Some Like It Hot.

I think our 4 nights in Spain took 4 years off my life, but being our last weekend trip of the summer we had to go out with a bang. The bad parts are only laughable now, and the good parts made it all worthwhile.