Magaluf -Majorca Spain

We had a long journey back to the other side of the island so we packed up early. We were eager to try out another beach in Majorca, as we had heard that Majorca was known for it's beaches. We also knew that the other side of the island was very British, and that the biggest club in Europe, BCM, is over there, and it's not exactly a clean and quiet part of town. We knew this going in, so we didn't have crazy high expectations.

We ate another epic German breakfast and packed up our things. We had to catch the same bus back to Palma, then onwards to Magaluf, so we figured earlier was better. We walked back to the street where we caught the first one, and almost got hit by a car jumping out into the street for the bus. No school bus rules here. You can speed around buses at random.

Stop needs no translation I guess?

Everyone loves Marineland!

We followed along on our phone this time, watching the little blue dot approach the hotel on google maps. We got off at the right stop and walked around the corner to the Spa Flamboyan Caribe hotel. It was obvious that this side of the island catered to the UK, mainly British people, as we passed countless pubs, including the Prince William Café. Even the souvenir shops and stores sell British memorabilia and brands, which seemed a little silly seeing as you were vacationing in Spain. Why would I want to bring back a British flag from Spain? Strange.

We knew coming here that this was a very young, British and therefore a somewhat skuzzy area, but we wanted to check out the nightlife here, including BCM. Calvin Harris was djing there on Wednesday, but we were on the other side of the island.

The hotel lobby is very nice and modern. We were in the building next door, and were given an ocean view.

Can't say I minded the view.

The room was nice enough, small, two twins pushed together, but it was cleanish, and the air conditioning worked. The view was beautiful.

We unpacked a little, and headed down to the beach. With this hotel we only had breakfast included, which was probably a good thing.

Can't take a picture without garbage in the foreground

The beach was gross.

The water looked turquoise from above, but closer down it was a putrid green water, that just looked polluted. There were sections that were turquoise and less revolting so we tried to swim into those patches, avoiding plastic cups, coke bottles, and sanitary napkins in the process. Gross. Brits like to rent these paddle boats that have slides on them. A little ridiculous, unless your 17, which I think many of these patrons were. I was missing the Germans.

We went up to the pool, which was cleanish, but still had Brits all around it. They would drink, and spill, and leave their cups everywhere. They spoke loudly, with horrific accents, that sounded like a parrot caught in a food processor. I never thought I'd hear an accent more offensive than the American Southern accent, but touche British people, touche.  It was like watching a high school mating ritual, where the boys wrestle and throw a ball around until their antics attract the attention of the girls who will then throw the ball back and start talking to them. The whole place kind of skeeved us out, so dried off and got dressed.

We walked around town a bit, which was so different from the Cala Millor side. It was bar after bar, all leading up to the main bar in the BCM plaza, and many of the streets smelled of urine and vomit. There weren’t a tonne of people around, we couldn’t imagine how all of these places survived.

We will call these the before pictures:

We found a guy in the BCM booth and he told us that there was going to be a washing machine party tonight. It was 40 euros per person, but that included all of your drinks, a t-shirt and hat, and entrance and drinks at three bars in the city. After an English dinner at a Polish owned restaurant called Titanic, we headed back to our hotel. Even the way they phrase their menus is for British people. Lemonade is actually 7Up and lemon is Fanta, the waitress knew we weren't British and kept translating what each item actually meant. We hadn’t run into anyone who spoke Spanish. A lot of the actual shop and restaurant owners were also British. We went back to purchase our tickets.

The guy at the booth said that the washing machine usually starts around 3am, and most people make their way over to the bar around 1am. It was 9:30. People had begun to pre-drink at different bars. We didn't feel the need.

We took a nap.

At around 11, we got up and got ready. The first bar that was close to us is where most people start to drink before going to the other bar. It had good music and lots of people already by the time we got there. You did have to wait a bit for drinks, but if you ordered a mixer and pop, or Sex on the Beach, it was easy enough.

The party on the street was insane. People must have come in on buses, because the streets and bars were packed. It was like a messier, British Pamplona (without any culture or mutual respect). We made our way through the droves of people and got to BCM.

But no Germans...

They gave us our obligatory t-shirts and hats, and we didn’t want to carry them around all night so we jogged them back to our hotel.

We got back to the bar after 1am and headed into the main room. It was quite the sight to see. Skantily clad dancers, big screens, tones of people packed tightly like Japonese subway train. It was fun to be a part of. It was definitely not somewhere you could actually dance. You could bounce along with the wave of everyone else. So we bounced for a bit.

Then I wanted to check out the next floor.

This boy did not look old enough to drink in Canada.

Shay went to the washroom, and instaneously I was greeted by 5 young Italian men. Very nice. They spoke very little English and wanted me to dance with them. I showed them my wedding ring, which they thought was fun. Shay came out, but walked off to the side to see how this would unfold. One of the guys noticed him and went over to congratulate him hahaha. They were funny.

We continued dancing downstairs, as the dj was lesser known. There was a lot more space. I guess the washing machine party isn’t as popular as the party upstairs. I think it depends on how prepared you are to get soaked. I had stopped earlier to get a pair of cheap shoes that I wouldn’t care if I needed to throw them away.

We danced the night away to the likes of Footloose and even a little Bryan Adams…so random. We kept bracing ourselves at 3am for floods of water to come cascading from the ceiling but no dice. The dj kept teasing, telling people to get ready, trying to get people amped up for this washing machine.

Then these red vinyl barriers came down from the ceiling, closing off this section of the bar from the rest of the room. They were mainly to keep the splatter located to a general area.

At around quarter after the three the suds started to spill from pipes in the ceiling. It was amazing how it foamed up the floor until we were up to our knees in bubbles. After the bubbles, the water came spraying out. Then more bubbles. This group needed a good scrub down! It was pretty entertaining.

Where's the foam???

There it is!

Then the water, to make it a true washing machine party.

Happy I wore crappy shoes

Who's this guy? No idea!

At around 3:30 we were soaked, and squeaky clean. We had the munchies and headed out for Mc Donald’s. There was one right down the street and their euro menu included cheeseburgers and nuggets. Very rewarding after a long night of dancing!

I couldn't eat it fast enough!!

The walk home wasn't too long, and the streets were still packed. There were buses that were bringing people home to other parts of the island. It was nice to be able to walk back to the room. We showered when we got home, which I highly recommend after any night at the bar! The noise in the hallway could be loud, but it wasn't too bad at this time of night.

So much fun!