Let me preface this by saying, I’d love to give you all the juicy gossip from what is quite possibly Ibiza’s most fun, quirky and intimate after hours soiree. Really I would. But I can’t. Well, I could but I won’t. Because if I let you in on any behind-closed-doors-secrets of the Ibiza Rocks After Party at Freddie’s Bar, well, it seems pretty unlikely I would ever be invited back again now, would I?
Let me tell you, when a party is that good, you don’t want to risk being blackballed!
In case you’ve been living under an Es Vedra sized rock and have no idea what I’m talking about, let me get you up to speed: Freddie’s Bar is the mega-suite (we’re talking big, bigger than my own apartment!)) formerly known as the Marrakech Suite at Ibiza Rocks House at Pikes Hotel. As the name suggests, it’s where Freddie Mercury once slept (ahem!), and this year it’s been completely revamped into the ultimate party pad.
Ahhh, if walls could talk! Well, I guess I could let you in on just a few little details…
There are DEFINITELY ghosts in this picture. I can only imagine who haunts that room to this day!
Upon arrival, we were greeted by flamboyant Wall of Sound main man Mark Jones, who had taken over the entire after party to celebrate his birthday. Ever the OTT gracious host, he instantly invited my posse into the back room – where Freddie’s bed remains – for a ‘Pussy shot’. Now of course, we all instantly thought it was going to be an alcoholic concoction of some sort, and prepped ourselves… Gosh, I just can’t bring myself to tell you. I don’t want to spoil Mr Jones’ party trick in the future! Though I’m sure my suitably blurry photo (which I suspect matched many partygoers vision at some point) might give you a clue…
- My own personal pussy shot!
As a general rule, I believe the better the party, the less photos there are to prove it, you know what I mean? How can you enjoy all the action if you’re too busy either posing or snapping. However there were a few occasions (as above for example) I thought it was absolutely essential I take a few happy snaps… and I think I can truthfully say, they have captured the after party vibe perfectly…
Is it just me (and the hierbas), or is there a serious Freddie lookalike vibe happening here?
Speaking of blurry, I must admit my memory is already pretty hazy (I think Dawn and Andy may intentionally keep that hierbas a-flowing to ensure no one actually remembers the hijinks they got up to!), in no particular order: Mrs Jones – aka Lottie hopped behind the decks for a party set spanning multiple decades; at one point there literally seemed to be people hanging from the rafters; a birthday cake was doing the rounds, rumoured to be ‘flavoured’ with a mood enhancing type ingredient; the dress-up box was being raided by folk probably old enough to have worn the vintage rollerskates and gold disco boots back in their heyday; an aging DJ was parading his latest botox investments by the poolside bar; the headline acts from Ibiza Rocks were schmoozing in the courtyard; and the Freddie Mercury lookalike bartender was subjected to about 500 hopeful choruses of ‘Club Tropicana drinks are freeeeeee… oh – you mean I have to pay?’
I woke up in the late hours of the following afternoon to find myself sporting: A) a rather large headache and B) an ‘I ♥ Ibiza’ plastic ring on my finger. Just for the record, I’m still wearing it now… I have no idea how it got there, but I couldn’t have put it better myself!
DJ Andy Carroll mans the makeshift booth, slapped together on an overturned dresser.
THE LOWDOWN
THE GOOD: The sheer diversity of people in attendance. All ages, all walks of life, all styles of dress and all manner of personalities were milling about over the course of the party… just add Hierbas and you’re guaranteed a cracker of an evening!
THE BAD: It’s completely possible to lose all track of time inside Freddie’s Bar. I swear one minute it was just after midnight and yet there I was rolling into bed at around the same time ‘normal’ folk go to work. Sheesh – next time remind me to get a room!
THE GOSSIP: I’d heard whispers that 2manydjs would be gracing the decks at some stage over the course of the night, however it seemed there was no prising the birthday brigade away from the makeshift DJ booth. Too many Djs indeed!
Mrs Jones - aka Lottie - managing to look more together than anyone else in the room at all times!
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