Most of the readers of this piece will have visited a discothèque or disco at least once in their youth and maybe even enjoyed the experience.
My one and only experience of this kind happened in Ibiza, which at the time, I was over 50 already, was THE place to go if you were in. I had decided to visit Ibiza because Gigi, a very dear friend of mine had opened a bar there and told me some great stories about life in this island.
I arranged to spend a week in Ibiza and of course first thing was to do a little tourism and see the fortress, the towns and the beaches, quite big and beautiful, great for sun tanning, which at the time was not taboo and was very pleasant. Gigi was gay and at the time had broken with someone that had been the last great love of his life, who had left him hurt, poor and sad but despite all that he was full of life and always willing and ready to be happy and sharing. Some days Gigi was more or less free and we spent a couple a days in the beach, chitchatting and having fun in each other company. He enjoyed a good chitchat and we had considerable number of friends in common so conversations could be long and interesting. He also accompanied me to visit the fortress of Ibiza and of course the area where most bars were located. At the time of my visit, Ibiza was the paradise for the gay community and the bars on this street were 101 per cent gay or as they say today GLBT.
Life was mostly nightlife and I mean they opened and started receiving guests around 23.00 hours. The pick hours were around one in the morning and of course closing time was undetermined but seldom before 5 in the morning, like the sun going up and the bars closing down. Gigi had invited me to a disco and gave me rendezvous in his bar, the “Bar 22” around midnight, and that was just for starters, warning me that we would not be finished before 6 or 7 in the morning, so I spent most of the afternoon doing long long siesta and started my trip – I had to take a boat from my side of the bay to his side, around 11 pm. I got to Bar 22 and while waiting for 1 am, the earliest possible time to get to the disco, I met quite a lot of his regulars and also had the chance to see the parade of drag queens advertising the various discos and showing off, which I believe was for them a most enjoyable activity.
Gigi in Bar 22 and a typical street – during the day
His bar was a little place on the main street of the gay quarters of Ibiza where most men were gay or passed for and a lot of them were drag queens, dressed in ways that I had not seen before. As part of my education Gigi introduced me to several of them, told me which bars to visit, what to look for and also where not to go. The experience was extremely interesting and for me a first. I have gay friends but none of them has invited me to enter their private world. Some 15 years ago that was a very private world so his invitation and the fact that Ibiza was he centre of it was good for my education. Every night around midnight or so, there was a parade of some of the drag queens that served to advertise the discos where they were one of the attractions and to show themselves.
The dress code, if it can be called that was extraordinarily colourful, kitsch, and impossible to wear in other circumstances. Many walked on stilts, which in itself makes walking difficult and when you have to walk down cobblestone streets, it was a miracle they did not fall. They were not wearing carnival clothes, they were not prostitutes either, not necessarily, just men that enjoyed garish clothing to attract attention and boy, they did!
At around 1 am Gigi closed the bar and we took a taxi to take us to the disco. It was not yet in full swing but it was quite noisy. He had the tickets or invitations or whatever, so we were whisked in without having to queue and I entered into a world of noise beyond belief. We walked together for a while, so I got my bearings of the place, I was introduced again to some of his friends, but most of them looked at me, the oldie strange female of the species with certain “what are you doing here, and with Him!” After a while we decided to separate, go our own ways so we could both enjoy the experience. I got a drink, cannot remember what but probably non alcoholic, and walked around, mingle as in the best of parties and at one point ended in front of the loudspeakers. When the music was full blast, the loudspeakers pushed me like a hand shoving me into the dance floor, all my body trembled and my poor little hart was shaken and stirred and all and it was almost frightening, so I moved elsewhere, just to watch that mass of bodies sweaty, glistening, some even malodorous but all of them looking happy. I remember seeing some women, but not many and again mostly dancing or moving or jumping together. I am totally incapable of describing the kind of music they were playing, although it was great fun to watch de DJ and his antics to make the place move to his rhythm.
The time passed very quickly, I hardly noticed daybreak until Gigi located me and signalled – talking was useless, we could not hear each other, that it was time to leave. I almost regretted it the sound enveloping me was somehow like a protection or soothing. But all things have an end, so we left the place and the silence and the sunlight outside were almost incredible, like a white shining light suddenly hitting you after spending hours in the dark, or in the relative dark of the disco. We took a taxi and Gigi went home and I went to the little port to take my boat to the hotel, have breakfast and go to sleep in silence. That was the visit to Amnesia, a disco that apparently still operates in Ibiza and that contrary to its name, once you have visited it, is hard to forget. Great fun and great experience.
Mementos of my life 