Dancing Is My Cardio

The other night we went out with Martin to this club on the beach. Check that, it was a club, next to the beach but both were separate entities.

So we went there and after receiving some mis-information about free cover, free champagne AND a free drink, we managed to procure a spot on a white couch. The ambience was a mix of eclectic oriental (hence the parisol lights) and chic. Very nice. Martin knows our taste so well.

After our free champagne (yes, one glass of Cava was included) we were choosing what to drink next. I wanted to buy a bottle of Cava, because let's face it. It is Spain, and the drink is made here. It couldn't have been that expensive, Right? Wrong. 65 Euros. Eeek, so we opted for 10 euro Cosmos instead. I didn't have to fork over that much though because I had found 5 euros lying on the floor. Hmm... cosmic kharma?

So anyways, then the crowd began to file in. Many cute boys. And cute girls. Everyone at the place was very good-looking! The music began to blare... shockingly Phil Collins began to belt out Take a Look at Me Now! (I had just listened to it minutes before departing our apartment)

I really felt in the mood to dance. After all, they were mixing some great 80's songs with great dance hits. So we started to hit it. Hard. The dance floor was huge but there were so many people it was crazy! There was this one Finnish or Danish guy dancing sort of close to us but we couldn't tell if he was gay or not and wanted our attention. He was a riot to dance with. Then there was the Ostrich. A girl dancing in a style reminiscent of the awkward half-mammal half giant bird. She ended up finding her giant gorgeous beef-cake later. All was well in the land of Rhythm until I started pouring sweat.

Now as you may know, I had a similar experience in Paris. This thankfully was much more subdued than that party. But I was pretty disgusting, soaking through my linen dress. After I could no longer give Umbrella it's proper dues, we decided to head home. Our taxi-driver over charged us and took us the wrong way. And 3 short hours later we were back in school.

Tonight we are heading to a bar where they serve flaming drinks. Literally. Everything is on fire. And their speciality is chupitos (shots.) Martin is picking us up at 11, and we are heading there. Possibly a club later? But as he already informed us, it will be humid. Oh great, I am going to be sweating again. At least it counts as exercise.