Just spoke with him,he fine...
That was you? My heart panics whenever my mobile displays a UK number.
Sweet Meiga; you have email and phone also. I am not the Worlds most difficult person to find. I am also a survivor more likely to get hit by a bus in London than anything else. I also posted that this was thread end. It isn´t.
I disappeared into the hills to take a bit of a break after my netbook power cable/transformer borked. It might be the hard disk
Ibiza, Ibiza...
More good work came in. I met a guy who owns One of just Two listed heritage hotels on the island. It has been very sympathetically restored to the way it was almost 100 years ago. Perhaps this is where the Ibiza glam, chic, contemporary tourism started? Sadly, it is now hidden from view by the surrounding shit, but it is a beautiful building about to feature my sketches.
Ibiza ended as complicated as it started. Another member of the fringe society died. Six in the short time I was there. That is horrific amongst such a small community and I can only say drugs were the catalyst for all. Suicide, murder, or accident - drugs were there.
Sidy, who I mentioned earlier in the thread used to be a professional footballer at the highest level. He hasn`t died. Nobody would believe his story. I know it to be fact. Originally signed to Arsenal on a youth development deal he ended up in France playing for Nants and was on the books for PSG. He found me in Placa des Parc a few days ago. Distressed to the point that he was actually ripping his hair out. I didn`t have to ask. He is a very emotional and expressive character. He has been part of the Ibiza scene for years. Balancing Litre bottles of beer on his head whilst parading the beaches, or simply taking your pint of beer and walking away with it on his head. People are so bemused they laugh before they think about getting angry.
Tragic news came his way. His father and eldest brother had been killed in a car crash. It was now his time to return home to Mali and take the family helm. He doesn`t want the money. He doesn`t want the responsibility, but accepts he has to go. Turns out he sent his father money whilst he was playing professionally. He has no interest in money himself. Everything he does he does for the love of it. His father was a wise man! Sidy now takes on 45 (yes - Forty Five!) properties in Mali and a couple of apartments in Paris. Anyone who met him in Ibiza would find this difficult to believe. He was the clown of the streets and beaches. No-one to take seriously.
Sidy was suited and booted for his leaving drinks before heading to Paris to meet a younger brother. Hopefully a tragic situation which will save his own life. And, so I left also.
I only came to Ibiza to visit my beautiful friend really. On Friday I woke on the mainland only to receive a subtle Valentines reminder. I almost got straight back on the ferry. I didn`t. I have enjoyed fiesta in Denia - free paella and booze. Six hour bus ride back to Granada with the aid of a couple of bottles of wine now. I have had a chemical shower in the form of baby wipes and deoderant with talc
END THREAD.