Ibiza is a land of contrasts and change. That's probably a tired old cliché to anyone who's spent more than two weeks in a row out here, but I thought it might be worth re-emphasising it anyway.
Last night I went from selling tickets (well, trying to), to selling photo keyrings (well, again, trying to). I'm a trainee for Foto Luis at the moment, and my job last night involved wandering round the bars and hotels of San An bay with the man himself, Luis, trying to convince people to buy a photo of themselves, either as a photo, or printed into a keyring.
The "contrasts and change" thing comes into the story after I finished work last night and, €55 better off, ended up in Viva with Steph drinking copious amounts of something alcoholic which stung my throat and made me feel very happy. There I got chatting to a girl - I have no idea what her name is - who is working for Ibiza Rocks in one of their highly sought-after PR jobs. When asked what she did before Ibiza, she said "I was a retail manager with eight years of experience ... great money, great job, and I jacked it all in to come out here. I couldn't be happier."
That seems to be a pretty common story out here, especially with the more successful workers who can take home a few hundred euros each night - they might not be doing a job which is seen by employers back home as particularly worthwhile if you're looking to slide your way up the greasy career pole, but the fact remains that common to everyone who comes out here looking for work is a desire to work their arses off, in many cases seven days a week, in exchange for only a couple of hours' R&R and a reasonable pay packet. That said, no-one seems to be feeling particularly shafted. As my future flat-mate Nathan quipped yesterday, "we're living the dream [in Ibiza]".
In the face of all these hard-working people, I'm feeling quite overwhelmed. I think I need a lie down... Although that could equally have something to do with the lingering after-effects of last night's brief-but-concentrated alcohol consumption...
We picked up the keys for the new flat yesterday, and I've got to wander over to the ferretaria (an ironmonger's, not a ferret monger's) later to get a copy cut for Steph. Tonight I'm going back to do another night of photography sales fun tonight. Luis wants me to print the keyrings there and then in the bars, which is a bit scary 'cos the printer probably won't handle being beer'd too well, so I might have to try and explain that doing them later and dropping them round to peoples' hotels - as we do with printed photos - might be a better bet. Still, he's the boss, and he's paying me, so I'm not massively worried.
Steph did a trial with Shades bar last night. The owner (umm, I think she's the owner anyway) Carly seems like a lovely English lass, and Steph seems to be making loads of new friends, so that's definitely a Good Thing. I heard a couple of stories of PR/police hide-and-seek involving some of the Shades PRs, but nothing bad seems to happen (touch wood), so again that's another Good Thing.
The only thing I'm missing is fresh fruit and veg, and the gym. Going to have to work on the food side of things before I turn into a pizza. The gym can wait a bit longer...
Life out here continues. Where are you? ;o)