Well here we are at the dawn of a new year, the time when we should be sitting back and reflecting on the previous 12 months, planning, hoping and dreaming (or perhaps plotting and scheming!) about what’s to come and maybe even daydreaming about who it is we’ll be smooching at midnight – all the while reclining in a big comfy pedicure chair of course!
But rather than relaxing over a bit of buff and polish, Miss W found herself racing back and forth across Ibiza town trying to grab one essential last minute accessory for New Year’s Eve– a kilo of grapes.
No, this is not some new way to get shinier locks or a trick for sparkling skin and no, Miss W has not come over all DIY with plans to make her own homemade vino. This is in fact, one of the most important Spanish traditions of the evening, one it is essential to partake in – and that is the tradition of eating 12 grapes upon the 12 strokes of midnight.
You see tonight, Miss W has decided to try something she’s never done before – throwing her very own last minute soiree. An ultra-exclusive dinner party no less, for the White-ettes, a token White male and one very special Little Miss Mini White. I know, I know – there are so many fabulous restaurants to choose from in Ibiza, it’s New Year’s Eve and then I decide to go all Martha Stewart! Who’d have thought?
What can I say? Miss W has always been a little on the spontaneous side…
As we prepared to watch the fireworks over the port, each of us with 12 grapes ready in a glass, the cries of ‘Feliz Año Nuevo!’ began echoing over balconies and the church bells began to chime. Gulp (quite literally) – that means it’s time…
Have you ever tried eating 12 grapes in 60 seconds? On the seventh chime it became perfectly clear that none of us would be able to complete the task… Just between us, I didn't want to risk dripping grape juice on my new Kurru Kurru frock before leaving the house!
Then it was off to Pacha – who had thrown a very extravagant dinner in the restaurant prior to opening at 1am – where the main dance floor was heaving however it was upstairs in the Funky Room that reigned supreme. House classics, a dash of disco and a bunch of very fashionably dressed locals schmoozing and grooving their way through the first few hours of 2009.
Start the year as you plan to continue it, I say…
THE LOWDOWN
THE GOOD: Seeing the party capital of the world kick back into action for a few days in the middle of the ‘off-season’ proves that it’s as much of a world class New Year’s Eve destination as any of the major cities around the globe.
THE BAD: Unlike the rest of the world, very few bars or clubs (in fact, no clubs at all!) are open for the stroke-of-midnight moment in Ibiza, meaning you need to be ultra prepared in advance to reserve yourself a table somewhere. Sadly, this doesn’t leave much room for spontaneity… OR the opportunity to kiss a random stranger at midnight!
THE GOSSIP: The throngs of eager clubbers lined up outside Pacha were equivalent to an FMIF party (albeit dressed in coats and scarves) at the peak of summer and even included a few, ‘But don’t you know who I am?’ moments on the guest list entrance. Looks like some things never change…