In the summer of 2010 I got to experience my first nightclub on the Spanish island of Mallorca, renowned for its insane party scene. Magaluf truly did live up to its reputation. It was loud, rowdy, insane.
I was returning to the party resort a couple of nights later alongside my friends. It was the same crowd who visited last time, excluding Toni’s older brother. We had proven we didn’t need babysitting anymore.
Maybe we did.
Trust me to run into trouble.
Our night started with some drinks at the bar directly opposite from BCM nightclub called Panama Jack. Compared to BCM, it was quiet and laid-back. By quiet, the music was still absolutely blasting and the colourful disco lights were blinding but, certainly early-on in the night, the bar only had a handful of people inside.
Once we had indulged in some better alcohol than the free stuff served inside BCM, we headed over to BCM.
My heart was pounding with a mixture of nervousness and excitement.
Would tonight be as good as the previous night?