Apartmentos Rosello, nr Ibiza Ciudad, Saturday June 10th 1995
I´m lying on the flat rocks above, looking down at the cove by the apartments. It is warm but not too much so, with a gentle breeze meandering its way across the sea.
Three´s company but four´s a crowd..
Why is it that when you´re having a cruise around and you happen to decide to accompany two men already inflagrante then they´ll often happily let another join in but once a fourth participant gets involved, well that´s the end of the fun and games. The two, (inflagrante or otherwise), will simply stalk away into the night, as if to say three´s company but four, that really IS a crowd, no thankyou!
There´s much more to Ibiza than meets the eye. As anyone who knows me well enough will surely attest, I do not come to the island for the sex that goes on here, (and this is in a big way). However, it has to be said, that as a gay man there are so many temptations on offer it is sometimes very hard to resist or desist.
Hence, I found myself again drifting up towards the infamous Ramparts in the Dalt Vila of Ibiza old town last night at 3.30am after leaving the gay club Anfora. I wandered around for a while dipping my toe in the water but without feeling an inclination to get really wet. But then, out of the blue , or black I should more accurately say, two guys started to make advances on each other and I can see they won´t mind too much if I add my twopenny worth to the feast.
And feast it indeed is. It soon becomes clear to me (and them presumably) that when clothes have been removed that each is built like a greek god. They proceed to get stuck in, in no uncertain terms. I´m always, to be quite honest, slightly overawed in the presence of beauty, so I sort of lend a hand when it was needed . It´s always rather marvelous to see two guys like that get so off on each other . Perhaps those memories provide for some of the horniest recollections , when you feel you are more of a spectator to some great ritual, able to sit back and watch two masters at work.
Groups or individuality
And now I idly find myself wondering how many times I´ve been here. I`ve lost count (actually I never started). But I suppose it must be a few dozen . Probably six months at least in all. Time well spent.
I can never decide if I like to be here in a group, with one other or all by myself. They all have things to recommend them but somehow I find being alone isn´t quite as good as sharing the place with others. I can´t think of any first timer I´ve been here with who hasn´t enjoyed the place more than they had expected too. It is i think important to Ibiza manage though otherwise like all rich things a week here can leave you feeling overfull and a little bit queasy.
Anfora and it´s changing face (and the changing face of mid nineties clubbing)
So yes. it was quite a good night at the gay club Anfora last night but surprisingly not an especially sexual one. I say surprisingly, as for years and years Anfora used to be a club mainly supposed on a predilection for sex, indeed the backroom at Anfora was one of the holidays dirty highlights, to be savoured. The music back then was Europap and Spanish disco hits, the dancefloor a bit tiresome and the air conditioning on full ´chill to the bone´. Now it´s another world with the DJ playing a voracious garagey house mix that really has the place moving, fierce I think is an appropriate word. And when the music takes control.. well. All those slightly tacky epithets that people use but it is seemingly a truism now here that sex takes second place when the music is that good. The natural high, (even sans stimulants), is better than sex and you end up feeling you´re having it off with the whole club anyway. So all in all, yes I was quite pleasantly surprised by Anfora last night. No sex but very surely a fierce time was had by many of us there.(Note: Remarkably the club, Anfora, only finally closed in 2016, some twenty years later).
Lets hear it for the Brit boys
And one thing I´ve noticed before , let´s say in the last year here, is how the British men seemingly unwittingly to attract me more than they used too, when I´m here in Ibiza. Half a decade ago they used to be the ones you would try to avoid, the ones rushing onto the dancefloor to twirl with Kylie or Madonna, or Brummy lads with thick accents at the bar, moaning about the price of drinks or tittering over what their best mate was or wasn´t doing in the darkroom. That´s all changed. Now it´s others who dance to the hits and titter with friends. Suddenly Brit boys have all the looks, the attitude and frankly look damn sexy with their boots, tight T´s and combat pants . They look like they are having a good time, they don´t bitch and they´ll be drinking water. So what´s happened, whats changed? Well ´E´ arrived obviously. And maybe I´m just older and the young things today get off on different things than they used to in the late eighties. But no, I think there is more. It`s maybe to do with a kind of confidence we all have in ourselves now. No need to feel we don´t belong. The attitude now is accept all and be done with it. No bitchin necessary.
And I for one find that a encouraging and sexy sign.
Sunday June 11 1200
In the apartment after a late breakfast. Went to Anfora again last night around 2am and again the music was good. An older german crowd was soon replaced by a more English and local crowd with a few trannies thrown in for good measure by 3am.
But after a while pilless, I left and decided a little diversion before returning to my casa was in order. I went to the back of the Ramparts , which is such a magnificent setting for cruising , very majestic with its ancient, dark bulwarks looming up over and above you. With the moon full last night, it was almost like a fairy tale set. Anyway who should come along after a while but Mr Bigchest and this time I got the full attention. He was simply put big all over with a chest you could lose yourself on. With a great arse he too was in fact, basically a god. And though when he came, he went, well suffice to say I loved it.
Sunday June 11, a little later
I have been pondering, in the last hour, how to pace myself here. It is a case of letting the phases take control.. and there are I think five phases of an Ibizan sojourn (or mine at least).
Phase 1. The winding down phase . So stressed out all you want to do is lie on a beach or rock and go ´aaahh`
Phase 2 The Sexual phase . The sudden sight of all the available and willing hot horny flesh is overwhelming and a day or two of frenetically sexual activity follows.
Phase 3 The chill out and party phase . As the rythym takes hold the party feeling gets going and then its party, chill, party, chill,party etc..
Phase 4 Deep relaxation. Time to go for a few long walks and sit and contemplate the current meaning of life.
Phase 5 The almost time to go panic. The last days approach and go fast and its make the most of everything time. Then its off in the taxi to the airport and back to being a Brit again.
Always back to being a Brit again. Maybe that´s ok though?
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