Zoe Nightingale

Not All Who Wander Are Lost...Unless They End Up In IBIZA

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Sinopse

IBIZA. I have always viewed this tiny Baleric Island as the Ft Lauderdale of Europe. With hordes of sun burnt Brittish lads looking like candy canes draped in matching neon on Stag Do tank tops followed by hordes of marshmallow lipped mega ho's stumbling around in their Chinese foot binding shoes, shit faced and looking for their next semen injection. Not my cup of tea. When I travel I like to either go somewhere and get lost with people I love, OR I go core, I go cheap, dirty and local and alone. I don't do 40 dollar California rolls, (Sunset Ashram are you fucking serious? Some of the prices made me literally want to bitch slap the bartender...like are we both witnessing and actively participating in agreeing that the total sum cost of rum, mint, ice, sugar and some Italian surfer to crush it half harzardly, put a spring of mint in it then do a line of coke off the fake tits of a waitresses under the bartop....is 25 EUROS! Makes me want to kill someone) I don't travel to speak english. I travel to learn, to