DC10 – The actual farewell? 08/09/08

DC10 is not traditionally the kind of place Miss W chooses to get her groove on – well OK, there is the odd occasion when I am tempted, but as a general rule it’s not my first port of call on a Monday afternoon. But the word on the street this week is that due to their many struggles with the local authorities, today will officially be the last ever Circo Loco party in Ibiza. So really, the closing party to end all closing parties, before the closing parties have even begun! If you follow my drift…

So I figured it was now or never!

Sporting my very special red new boots to protect my freshly pedicured toes from the perils of the dirty dusty DC10 car park, I arrived fairly late (9pm) by the looks of the way the party was going. While there were no queues outside, there were certainly enough hunky looking doorman on hand to ensure the hottie quota for the evening was reached before even heading inside, where the hordes of people crowding the bars and overheating the dance floor was enough to make me think the amount of clubbers per square metre could surely rival Privilege on a Monday night!

Was it magic? Or was it madness? That was the question on my lips as I made my way through the club and I have to say that the answer lies somewhere in between.

Think hundreds of stylish Italian girls dancing alongside younger English clubbers, resplendent in their fancy dress attempts. Think tall, muscly tattooed über-men rubbing shoulders (though Miss W would like to take this opportunity to say shirts off in a club is so not cool, no matter how hot it gets on the dance floor) with local business owners, yummy mummies (minus bubs of course) and those retired-clubbers who thought their DC10 days were long gone, all hoping for one last chance to relive the magic that made this party one of a kind, not just in Ibiza but in the world.

While I’m all for getting involved on the dance floor, when a club is as crowded as this (with no VIP area to seek solace in – everyone is as one here) I was pretty happy to run into my Very Well Connected Friend who invited me into the inner sanctum of DC10, otherwise known as behind the DJ booth! And not a moment too soon – I mean, what’s the point of dancing if no one can see your shoes?


THE GOOD: That the island’s true party spirit lives on, even if it’s with baited breath that each week could be their last chance to party on a Monday in the now-legendary hangar on the side of the road towards Las Salinas.

THE BAD: There’s busy, there’s rammed and then there’s the DC10 terrace dance floor. Enough said.

THE GOSSIP: Is it or isn’t it closing? Was this or wasn’t this the last party? Would the police close the event down halfway through the night? Only time will tell – keep your eyes peeled out by the airport next Monday and find out for yourself!