it’s pronounced i-bi-tha

So, it’s official… we’re goin’ to Ibiza, we’re goin’ to Ibiza – woo hoo!

Now, this trip for me (Jo) is probably 15 years past my prime but who cares.  When Ryan get’s offered a Uni trip (that allows me to go with him) and Matt and Kate say ‘sure, we’ll have the kids’ we say ‘Yes’ (We had a few issues with the second part, but once the kids said that they would tuck Matt in and allow him to stay up until 10.30 things went alright – Ryan).

We had pretty much ruled out a trip to this party island after hearing stories from Tracy and Huw about the cost but being an international student seems to have its benefits. So, when a 5 day trip including private boats, accommodation, island tours and access to all parties comes in at 185€ each I think you would all agree it’s definitely worth a look.  Now I’m under no false illusion that the accommodation is going to be anything more than ‘on par’ with student housing but I’m prepared to take that on the chin as I’m sure that in another 15 years I’m not going to be considering Ibiza (and probably would be above the maximum age limit if not already) – so it’s now or never.

I have attached the flyer below, a lot of it sounds a little crazy eg foam party (haven’t been to one since let me see….maybe 1993 in the downstairs section of Le Rox when either Dream Frequency or NJoi were there – it’s a long time ago regardless).

Ryan’s turn to type:
We are fully aware that the Mashed-up British Lobsters (think white people, sun and no sunscreen) will be out ‘livin it large’ – as I left the Student Association office in Valencia I walked past four girls who had the look of “Livin-it-large” and lo and behold the call of “Well, um, yeah, I’m well chuffed that I am going to Ibiza…” came from one of these girls.

Jo has sent for her fluffy bunny raver pants, a bucket of chupa-chups and a Banana in PJ’s back pack (optional extras will be bright orange gators, matching council vest and glow sticks); please note Jo is denying ever owning these items (she actually never did) but as they say in Rome “When in Ibiza…”

A side note is the drama I had in getting this paid for. Our ESN office doesn’t have credit card facilities, so a trip to Valencia was called for. I rode in to Gandia and took a hit to the back tyre – a ‘snake bite’ puncture as I hit a metal drainage gutter about three k’s from town. I had the pump, so two quick stops to re-inflate and I made the train station, although I missed the express train by two minutes.

Not to worry, I got onto the next train and I arrived an hour later in Valencia. I detoured to El Corte Ingles and I bought a repair kit. Sitting on the sidewalk I pulled the tyre apart, inflated and used my supreme powers of sight and sound to locate the puncture.
Jo is now worried about this story, so I shall cut it off and give dot points:
• Fixed tyre and rode to University
• Tyre deflated and I cursed it.
• Borrowed a bowl, filled it with water and located puncture again
• Fixed it. Then found another puncture. Fixed it.
• Road to train and went home (uphill and into wind.)

and thus my work for going to Ibiza ends there. Innit? Large!!!!

We have the news/weather on the TV and hopefully Ben got into NYC yesterday without an issue – before 43cms of snow stopped 1000 flights into NY and New Jersey. Get out the shovels, boys.