Even on a slightly nippy Monday night in May, Carrer de Santa Agnes – AKA the West End – in San Antonio, Ibiza, is throbbing to the beat of smashed glass, screaming hen parties, football songs and aggressive bar touts.
Boobs are pushed up, bottoms peek out. Dresses are generally tight lace, string or transparent, with bikinis, G strings or, well, nothing beneath.
Tattoos – of lions, skulls, dogs, hearts, even a pair of very pert breasts – are everywhere. And the music is so loud the road vibrates, but everyone just yells over the top.
‘Ibiza Ibiza. Land of the brave. oh what a f****** rave!’
Josh from Derby, dressed in a saucy Snow White outfit, is on his stag night. He’s draped in two curvy girls with comedy eyelashes who are piped…
