One of the many things I love about Halloween in Ibiza is that I feel like I can get away with saying and doing almost anything, because no one knows your identity! There’s something about being in costume – and indeed, in character – that gives you a sense of freedom and courage, though I guess all the cocktails consumed may have something to do with that too!
So with a group of freaky friends in tow (a not-so-friendly ghost, Colonel Gaddafi, the Black Swan, a criminal mime, a sloth and a faceless skeleton) we hit the Halloween party circuit in a haze of capes, cloaks, fake blood, facepaint and a resounding chorus of trick or treats!
Guess who? Could it be... me?
First stop, La Cava, where the new bar and menu was being unveiled, albeit under a cover of cobwebs and pumpkins! Next up Bambuddha Grove, for the famous Fetish Halloween Ball, where the intensity of people clamouring to get in was the equivalent of a F*** Me I’m Famous party in the middle of August, made much more scary (if that’s possible!) by the fact everyone was ghoulishly made up like zombies, vampires, witches, werewolves and corpses and the temple shrouded in a haze of creepy fog!
Nagai was next, where there were more vampires per square inch than an True Blood, Twilight and Buffy put together! Then it was up to Aura, where make-up artists were on hand to transform those who needed an extra dash of scream factor. Finally, it was back into Ibiza town to Pacha (well it is on the way home after all!) for the Rock Nights Halloween Creatures & Dead Rockstars party, where a shrine to the aforementioned rockers was eerily placed by the bar and Jim Morrison danced with Joey Ramone while Dracula got down on the dance floor.
Happy Halloween indeed Ibiza, how can you possibly top that next year?
A 100% perfect replica of the Black Swan, complete with self-harming scratches and blood. Ouch!
THE LOWDOWN
THE GOOD: The costumes, the blood, the guts, the gore, the theatrics, the sheer size and scale of the efforts people went to in order to be their scary best! A Hollywood horror movie ain’t got nothing on this little island!
THE BAD: Trying to party-hop on Halloween is pretty tricky. Given that the two-way road between the restaurant road and Santa Gertrudis (where Bambuddha Grove sits about a third of the way down) becomes a one-way traffic nightmare, police had to contain the traffic and I saw more than one car need to reverse ALL THE WAY to Santa G! No only that, taxis were few and far between… all in all, as much as you may want to show your costume off, my tip for next year is a pick your party and stick to it (though I’m not sure if I’ll practice what I preach).
THE GOSSIP: How many excuses can be used trying to wangle one’s way into a party? Here’s just a few I heard, begged, implored and shrieked at the door at Bambuddha Grove (I won’t tell you what I used – I may need to use it again next year):
Grasping at straws: ‘But I’m friends with Sasha Moon!’
Grasping at more straws: ‘But I went to schoolwith Jonjon Moon!’
Trying to call on the big guns: ‘John Moon personally invited me’
‘I’m with the DJ!’ Then why are you outside while he’s inside?
‘I AM the DJ!’ Errr, no you’re not. He’s inside playing.
‘I had my 500€ costume custom-made for this!’ And what a lovely costume it is.
‘I flew in from London/Italy/France/Berlin for this!’ Should have booked a table when you booked your flight.
‘Don’t you know who I am?’ OBVS not, given that you’re in costume!
Yes, this is ACTUALLY one of my friends. A genuinely disturbing one.
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