"Oh yes,", I can hear you thinking, "the old buzzard has finally lost it. What does he know about Ibiza? And what is he on?"
Good questions, both of them. My cousin Dylan tells me that the music in the club I've just got home from (it's 2 a.m. here in Mumbai) is similar to that at the Ministry of Sound in London, and who am I to disagree? I have to admit that the sensation of feeling your lungs vibrating is an odd one and when I fully regain my hearing in about three days time, I'll be grateful, but I'm having an absolute blast!
The club itself is on the second floor of the bank building, with a rather fancy restaurant attached. With urinals filled with ice, and young men applying their makeup in the bathroom, it's slightly different to my normal environment but no less exciting for all that.
My only regret about all this is that I have to come home...
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