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While getting our tan on, we ran into Ed, a representative from Cirque de la Nuit, who explained the party packages they were offering. After what seemed like forever we decided on a package that included the following tickets:
- Thursday: Sankeys Club and another club I can’t quite remember the name of.
- Friday: Ibiza Rocks
- Saturday: 12:30 Boat Party with all you can drink followed by a pool party from 4-12
One spot we went to played mostly techno and EDM, we did NOT have a great time there.
Another club we went to had the movie Alien vs. Predator showing in what can only be described as a movie theater room.
I think we spent the majority of the night watching that movie, or in my case, watching the insides of my eyelids, as I had absolutely no interest in the movie and was exhausted anyway. They woke me when it was over and we went home.
Friday night was when we agreed to do our “white night” dinner. We had walked by Le Bar one night on our way home from the club and thought it’d be a great spot for dinner. Unfortunately we hadn’t made reservations in advance but when we arrived looking as amazing as we did, they couldn’t turn us down and found us a nice table.
The service and our server was amazing and so was the food. It was a great evening.
The boat party was the best! We all had a great time (well minus my one friend who refused to take her motion sickness pills knowing we’d be on a boat). But one monkey didn’t stop our show. The drinks on board were made in batches and they had about 4 or 5 varieties in addition to beer. The drinks were all really good and I lost count early on of how many I had consumed.
The DJ was awesome he played a mixture of hip hop and dance and enough to satisfy the music taste of all onboard. and so were the other partiers on the boat. The only downside was that we were under the impression that the boat would dock at a small nearby island and not just in the middle of the sea. Many of the folks on the boat jumped off the boat into the sea for about 30 minutes or so before it was time to head back. I very slowly took the ladder down and mostly held onto the side of the boat. Because the way my swimming skills are set up…
After the boat party we went back to our AirBnB to shower and get dressed. We went to Swag (the only club on the island that plays Hip-Hop every night). We were originally told that Swag tickets were included in the package but apparently they weren’t. Luckily Greta from Cirque de La Nuit got us free tickets. And we had the BEST time at Swag. I really wished we had gone before our last night since they played the music we liked best.
Swag was awesome, the DJ was from NY and he played a great set and mix of hits (he played a lot of Philly artists which was even more amazing since we’re all from Philly) that made us not want to leave (Sat Aug 15). But we had to be at the airport by 6:30 the next morning and the combination of drinking all day and partying all night was a bit much for me at 30.
Packing to leave for the airport took me forever. I was tired, still intoxicated, sleepy and by the time we got home from Swag there wasn’t much time to do anything but pack. The flight back was a bit rough for me. And it never fails, I always have the most fun on the last night of all my trips. Lesson learned: pre-pack as much as possible if planning to go out the night before you leave. I was sad to leave Ibiza but all things come to an end.
My TripAdvisor Reviews for this trip:
Once we arrived at our AirBnB in Amsterdam we dropped off our bags and darted out to get food nearby.
We noticed a bar near the Chinese restaurant where we got dinner, and stopped at the bar afterwards. They didn’t have much of anything that I prefer to drink and it was super crowded so we didn’t stay long and called it a night.
The following day we booked activities. Several of us picked different activities but we all agreed to do the Ice Bar, a guided tour on the canal, and the sex museum in the red light district.
I had a little time before activities so I got a manicure and pedicure. Although my friends wanted to see the Anne Frank house the line was way too long and would have cut into the other activities we had planned during our short stay.
One other friend and myself had purchased tickets for Body Worlds. I hadn’t gotten a chance to catch the exhibition several years ago when it was in both Philadelphia and the Washington DC area, so I was excited to catch it now.
The Body Worlds exhibition takes an interesting look into the magic of the human body. One of the exhibits compared an average weeks spread of food for countries/cultures around the world and there was no surprise that the American family was among the top calorie consumers and had the unhealthiest food choices.
There were also several sex exhibits that were interesting and a display of a child fetus through each month of gestation. I really enjoyed Body Worlds.
I wanted to rent a bike and do some low key exploring but nobody else was interested and there wasn’t much time to fit it in.
The canal tour was fun as well, our boat captain was funny and very attractive. And seeing the city from the canals was definite interesting, specifically learning about the architecture and design of most homes. Which explained why the steps in our AirBnB were so narrow and winding, which can be really dangerous. I will say it was a real team effort hauling our luggage up two levels of narrow and winding staircases.
The Ice Bar was an experience. It was fun and the drinks they have at their regular bar were really good.
After leaving the Ice Bar we headed to a nearby club, where we stayed and danced for almost an hour until I realized that I had left the hat (as seen in the photos above) I borrowed from my friend that day at the Ice Bar. As we were leaving to back to get the hat the bouncer tried to convince us to stay. We explained what happened and he offered us a bottle of champagne (well Prosecco) if we returned after retrieving the hat.
Unfortunately, the hat was nowhere to be found so we returned empty handed. But luckily the bouncer kept his word and the champagne was an added bonus to the night.
On our last night, we went to the sex museum and visited to the red light district. The museum was fun and enlightening. Learning about the sex industry in Amsterdam gave me a much different perspective on this business. I don’t plan to run out and join the industry but it is interesting to see how these “mostly women” are viewed by society and how the government has regulated or at least involved itself in this industry.
From what we were told, a good majority of the women who put themselves on display in the windows and elsewhere to advertise themselves for sex, are in long term committed relationships or married. And their careers are not hidden or shamed by their family or friends. They all look at it as just another job.
I think most people will agree that Americans are quite prudish and overly judgmental when it comes to sex and ones sexuality. So I’m sure many of us a bit surprised when we are taken out of our element to a freer more open culture. Europe in general is a very sexually open continent, with nude beaches and nude bath houses etc.
It’s reasons like this that make me appreciate the traveling that I get to experience.
This is an awesome idea I plan to adopt for my next birthday. And I love this Living out loud mantra! My birthday is next month so I don’t have much time to figure out my new mantra for the next year of my life. Additionally, I know I’ll be focusing on my 2016 vision board. Hopefully the two will go hand-in-hand. But I’m definitely looking forward to starting this new tradition. Do you have any similar birthday traditions that you live by? I’m curious. If not check out Jen’s tradition here.
Source: Living OUT LOUD …
A New York City subway train holds 1,200 people. This blog was viewed about 6,000 times in 2014. If it were a NYC subway train, it would take about 5 trips to carry that many people.
That is the lesson I learned this past weekend. Make sure you leave for your destination with a full tank of gas, and an empty bladder.
I left D.C. late Saturday night after a full day and having a few drinks with new and old friends. The thing is, I knew I needed to use the lady’s room, but I only realized this after I was outside of the venue. Instead of going back in, I thought “I’ll be okay, I can make it home”. So I headed to my car only to realize that I was already on “E” and hadn’t gotten gas on my way to DC like I needed to. As I’m getting closer to home I’m thinking there is no way I’ll make it home before:
1. My bladder gives out; or
2. My gas tank gives out.
I didn’t want to stop on my way home, because it’s mostly highway, and I didn’t want take a chance that a gas station I stopped at didn’t have a public bathroom or have to get the stupid bathroom key. Anyway, As I’m about to pull into my parking spot in front of my house I run out of gas. I put it in park and ran into the house so fast. I woke up the next morning and peeked out at my car to see I was parked between two spots.
Needless to say, Sunday morning I started walking to the nearest gas station, purchased a gas can and a gallon of gas and walked back to fill the tank. #LookatGod
Moral of the story once again is, make sure you leave for your destination with a full tank of gas, and an empty bladder. Because this story could have surely ended a lot worse.
I had surgery the other day, and anyone who has ever had any surgery knows that you are prohibited from eating or drinking the day of and possibly the night before. So you’re usually starving going into the surgery, like myself.
As I was wheeled into the pre-surgery room, we passed a setup of sticky buns and danishes. I thought to myself “they have got to be kidding me” as my stomach rumbles from hunger pangs.
Shortly after they began asking me questions to verify my identity and my medical history or any medical conditions. A few minutes later a lady I had just seen getting prepped for pre-surgery downstairs, was wheeled into the station next to me separated by only a curtain. They proceeded to ask her the same/similar questions as me.
Now let me paint a mental picture of this woman’s physical appearance. She was a 5’7 black woman with a tall/big build (mostly stomach) and she walked with a slight limp.
Prep Dr.:Any allergies?
Lady: Yes, Red sauce. (I chuckled to myself because I’m sure they were referring to medications etc., but can’t hurt to share)
Dr:Are you diabetic?
Dr: High Blood Pressure/Cholesterol?
Lady: Yes, both
Dr: Yea your pressure was a little high when we took it down stairs, so we’ll take it again in a minute.
Dr: Do you smoke?
Dr: How much?
Lady: I used to smoke a pack a day, now I’m down to a half a pack.
Dr: Do you have asthma or any breathing issues?
Lady: Yes, Sleep apnea
Dr: Heart disease or issues?
Lady: I have a heart murmur.
Dr: Any previous surgeries?
Lady: I had knee surgery in July.
Dr: What’s your height and weight?
Lady: 5’7 and I’m 265 lbs.
Dr. What are you having done today?
Lady: Carpal tunnel release.
Dr: On which hand?
Lady: My right hand.
Dr: Do you have any questions?
Lady: No but I’m hungry, and yall had all those sticky buns right outside the door, tempting me.
I laughed so hard, because I was thinking the same thing. But I was also thinking that those sweets were the last thing she needed to be concerned with.
I know I’m no “skinny mini” but, generally speaking I’m healthy at least to say I have no hypertension, diabetes, sleep apnea, high cholesterol etc., in spite of the fact that I’m pre-disposed to all of these issues. I also try to work out and exercise on a regular basis, but after I finished chuckling to myself at the irony of this lady’s predicament, I felt sad for her. She has all these health issues and she was still a relatively young woman, probably around 40 years old. I don’t know her story but I hope she’s doing what she can to get all of those issues under control, or carpal tunnel will be the least of her concerns.
So im waiting at the bus stop on Sunday to go downtown. I see this older man crossing the street towards me in a Shalwar Kamize. I acknowledge him and he sits a seat away from me. After a few seconds he acknowledges me back and says something in German. I reply “English?”.
He asks where im from and I tell him American. He tells me I’m beautiful a few times before asking if I liked him. Confused on how to reply to that, I shrug and say I dont know.
Then he makes his request clear asking if I like sex?
Im thinking oh boy here we go…
I didn’t respond so he continues. Do you like sex outside?I said no!
You don’t like sex outside? And proceeds to point to the park behind us. Only 2 or 5 minutes he adds, as if that was suposed to entice me to take him up on his offer.
I just ignored him
He asks if I have kids I say no. And adds you dont have kids, and you don’t like sex? Im not following his logic. Does the fact that I’m a single woman traveling alone mean that I’m open for sex with any random, or that I’m a prostitute?
Oh did I forget to mention that he asked me how much? As in how much it would cost him to get with me.
Then he starts with the are you from africa? I mean the fact that I consider myself an African American suggests that im of African descent. But I had to explain once again that my parents are american as are my grandparents and their parents.
I found out that he was Indian.
He noticed my tattoo. And asked if I liked music.
And somehow he ended up asking me about terrorists and the twin towers in NYC. I WASNT sure what exactly he was asking me at that point though. It seemed like a series of separate and seemingly unrelated questions.
Finally the bus came and I was hoping he didn’t try and sit near me.
I waited too late to try and snap a picture of him. But that’s him getting onto the elevator.
One day last week I stopped at a nearby travel agency. I wanted to see if they could find me a good deal for my upcoming trip to Italy. I walked in and sat down in front of the other available agent as there was a gentleman occupying the other agent’s desk. I explained to the agent what I was looking for.
We chatted briefly before she got up to find a brochure. I smiled at the gentleman sitting who was being helped by the other agent, and said “Hi”. But he turned his head without responding. I started to get indignant because I was frustrated that Germans rarely speak back, after I greet them. I had been told and forewarned about their temperament but thought surely they can’t all be that snobbish to not speak when spoken to. I wanted to say hello to him again in an even louder voice than before just to ensure that he had heard me. Surely he would respond this time.
My agent returned and I ultimately decided to ignore him. He left about 5 minutes later. And I left about 10 minutes later. As I’m crossing the street I see him approaching me on his bicycle. He stops me and asks if I speak German. I replied “ein bisschen” “only a little”. Then he asks if I spoke English, when he clearly heard me speaking English to the travel agent. But I responded positively. So he proceeded to ask me if I had time to talk over coffee.
In my mind I’m thinking “Is this the same guy who just snubbed me 20 minutes ago?” Clearly, I was confused. So I agreed to go to the cafe across the street. As he locked up his bike he begins with the questions…Him: Are you African? Me: No Him: Are you Haitian? Me: No Him: Are you Brazilian? Me: No Him: Dominican? Me: I’m American Him: Afro… American?
With every negative response I supplied him, he grew more and more confused. We sat down and I explained to him that I’m American, yes, African-American. He then asks where my parents are from. I said America so he proceeds to ask about my grandparents. Yup they’re American too. I explained that at least 4 or 5 generations of my parents are all American. But of course he follows that with “So where in Africa is your family originally from” I said to be honest I couldn’t tell you. (I spared him the details of the Transatlantic Slave Trade, a little to heavy for me after work and over coffee at the cafe.)
Finally, it was my turn to ask the questions. I found out that he was a Serbian living in Germany named Nicola. (It sounds really sexy when says it, compared to how it looks on the screen. ) Then I asked why he ignored me when I greeted him in the travel agency. His response was that it is atypical for Germans to speak to people they don’t know. “But you’re not German”, I say. And he gives me a sly smile. He went on about how he doesn’t like German women, because they’re “hearts are cold” and his people i.e. the Serbs (is that even politically correct –the Serbs) are not like that.
I ordered a cappuccino and he ordered water. And then we start talking about race, and color, and interracial relationships. He said it was an uncommon thing in Germany, but I disagree. I see a lot of black, mostly African, women with white, European men. Additionally, Germany has a huge U.S. military population and a great percentage of military families are biracial especially ones living overseas. So I see a lot of biracial couples and children here in Germany. I have only seen one biracial couple where the woman was black here in Germany and the man was white.
I asked him if he had ever dated a black girl or an African girls to which he replied that he hadn’t but would like to. Adding that it’s not easy to meet them. I said for starters you can speak back, if they speak to you. He attempted to gauge my interest in dating white guys, I told him that I don’t discriminate.
He noticed the tattoo on my arm and touched it, asking if I had only one. Then he rubbed my arm and hand, stating that “It’s so nice…your skin is beautiful, not like mine”. As he’s rubbing his skin and rubbing mine trying to compare, I assure him that there really is no difference. But he rubbing, turned into a petting, so I removed my hand from the table. I’m nobody’s pet!
After paying for our beverages we left and began walking. He looked older but not too old, so I asked him his age. His response was, “How old do I look?” Everyone knows that that response really means “I’m older than I think you’ll care to entertain” OR “I’m younger than I want to share with you”. I knew it was the former and he finally told me that he was 40-years old. I told him my age, right before telling him that we needed to part ways. (I didn’t want him knowing where I lived, so I didn’t want to get too close to my house/neighborhood). He asked for my number and I obliged but giving him the spelling of my name was a chore. I spelled it in English AND in German and finally he got it right but not before pointing to signs that contained the letters in my name. I guess I shouldn’t complain his English was way better than my German.
Of course he sent me a good morning text the following day, but managed to spell my name wrong. I’ll never understand why people insist on spelling your name wrong when they send you a Facebook message or an email at work when my name is clearly in the address. It’s annoying as hell.
Subscribe to my blog and click here for Part II, the follow-up meeting with the Serbian.
- Stuff white men say to black women (abagond.wordpress.com)
- Germans, 10 Things You Should Never Say to a Black Woman (blackgirlinberlin.com)
- The African identity (theiink.wordpress.com)
- The Largest Ancestry Groups In The United States (businessinsider.com)
- Raising biracial kids in 2013: The challenges and the opportunities for the African-American community (thegrio.com)
- Black Like Me: My Trip to Serbia (archive.oaklandlocal.com)