The late morning subsides into afternoon before Gee and I rouse ourselves from the bedroom. The Garbi has been redecorated this year and the room has a beautiful dark wood styling. The new décor has a flavour of downplayed sophistication with an understated opulence. Such a nice contrast from the sometimes over-styled attention-grabbing feel to the strip, the new design on the Garbi has been truly thoughtful. A true haven of relaxation allowing you to disconnect from endless Balearic rhythm with style enough to still know you’re somewhere special, even with the curtains shut.

A cheap Spanish cigarette on the balcony of the corner room, overlooking the bungee ride in front of Space punctuates the day. We head off to spend the afternoon at a secret party on a beautiful coastline cove, inverse to the big club sound with experienced thus far. Club Azuli are the agents of understated change creating the soft summer afternoon soiree. Huge beanbags, sun-loungers and stereotyped sangria make the afternoon float by with the beautiful people. You feel you could die at this place and still feel good and if by some fluke, you did transcend to heaven, there’s a small chance you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.

New disco and Electronica DJs play a warped Eighties sound in what’s probably a future echo of the way the aloof cool scene will probably go here in Ibiza, and thus the rest of the club world. The mainline media’s only just caught hold of the Minimal Techno cross Electro groove-squelch. Yet that’s done the rounds here for a couple of years, and it’s always been the skill of artistic psychonauts to explore the mysteries of the uncharted. Let’s see who leads and who chases.

We sit and sample the club’s own Rose wine. The terrace provides a little solace from the blazing afternoon sun. Gee and I have been discussing what to do, and as there’s a big promotion for Ibiza Rocks on the site at the time we decide it’s a good idea to check out The Fratellis. Dan from Spotlight has become a familiar character to our holiday and Gee gives the man a call as he’s already expressed an interest in coming out tonight to the gig. We arrange to hook up at Bar M and get another sponsored bus down to the old racecourse where the event is being held tonight.

We have the obligatory drinks at Bar M. The bus ride is short, bumpy, female, scouse and giggly. We find ourselves in the compound overlooking the old racetrack. The white stone walls against the red tiling give the place a vibrant yet relaxed ambience, and everything’s so bloody clean. You can get burgers and crepes from a couple of stands. Reclining with a nice greasy burger with onions and cheese I survey the action and there she is, The Ibiza TV girl from the Tiesto interview. She’s sitting with her long haired cameraman, who’s smoking a roll up, looking totally disinterested in anything.

I sink the rest of my cold Spanish lager and screw my cup up with the determination of a man who’s set his sights on something. To complete the cliché I wipe my hand across my mouth and fix my steely glare on the Italian visual temptress sitting there with her cameraman. I move over and pull my ‘oh wow didn’t see you there” angle. She responds with a smirk and drops her head to one side. So we sit and chat, and without too much trouble she seems to be hanging off my every word. I guess Italian women aren’t quite liberated enough yet to simply tell guys to fuck off. Her late social development is my gain and we continue to talk. A thought enters my mind. Should I ask her out? I decide that I should and grow a pair of balls and see what she’s up to over the next few days. I get a predictable “boyfriend” style response. I decide (which is rare for a respectful young buck like myself) to ignore this fact and use the “what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him” gambit. She says her boyfriend probably will mind, after all, he’s sitting there… As she points to the cameraman, I simply have to walk off tail between my legs and buy another pint.

By now the Fratellis have hit the stage. I see Dan standing on one of the larger risers next to a spotlight and head up the steps towards him. I relate the story of the Italian TV presenter and he laughs as does the lovely looking black haired girl standing with him. We start to get into the Fratellis and Dan takes a look at me. “You’re in Ibiza mate…” he reminds me. “You are allowed to smile.” Then he promptly disappears into the crowd to dance leaving me with the beautiful black haired girl.

We dance and laugh as we watch the Fratellis play. The concert is the perfect size, intimate but not awkward and there’s a very English feel to the air which is always comforting even though you’re on holiday. The Fratellis rip into some of their favourite tunes. The atmosphere is electric as they storm through their best known numbers. We’re treated to an audio frenzy of some of the best British upbeat indie since the Halcyon days of the Happy Mondays. We get all the classics like Henrietta, Mistress Mabel, and Baby Fratelli in a set which crashes into a glorious climax with the essential Chelsea Dagger. Of course, when they start with the chords, the audience doesn’t need to be told. As pints of beer fly through the air into a mosh pit the likes of which haven’t been seen since 1987 the la-la-la refrain of the 2007 classic is belted into the warm Ibiza night by a couple of hundred voices drunk on the moment. For a second there I catch myself thinking I’m sixteen again and have sneaked into my first concert.

To top it all off the beautiful dark haired girl starts chatting to me. She has a beautiful smile and a nearly complete packet of Marlboro lights. What a find. I talk her into giving me and Gee a lift home and we arrange to meet for drinks the following day. Now that’s what I call a brilliant night out.

You can find more details on the stunning Hotel Garbi here, and buy tickets for upcoming Tiesto gigs at privilage on Ibiza-spotlight here.

Photos by Gee - www.geespot.net