Amnesia, as in “what just happened?”is a major club on Ibiza. Tonight is Amnesia's “closing party for 2007” We wake up at 9:00 pm from an 8 hour slumber with mental and physiological (metaphorical) batteries fully charged. It is time to close out the party season. At 9:00 am when I return to my hotel room, exhausted and totally spent, the club remains open. Amnesia will not close until at least noon. At 10:oo pm we take a cab to the club called Space.

I say “space discotech por favor” to the cabbie, and we hang out on the corner. Here we drink 2 Euro cans of Becks, buy tickets for 35 Euros and socialize with local promoters. Remember to make friends in order to get the best info on where to go and what to buy. If you see the same person at the same spot every night, he must be somewhat trustworthy.

At Midnight we take a cab to Amnesia, where enormous spotlights sway back and forth in the night. The cab driver drops us off and we pay him 15 Euros, which is think is a far better option that the hassle of a rental car.

The guest list line and the line to buy tickets are both long, at least 50 people deep, but since we already have tickets, we walk right in. In a way, I felt right at home, so I will just go ahead and say it ... Just like that, just that fast, “WE WERE IN!!”

Right away, it is obvious that Amnesia simply blows Pasha away. Impressive. Big rooms, wild decorations, and what some say is the world's best sounds system. So loud, so clean !! A huge white ball bounces around the crowd as steady House music pulsed. The cardiovascular regularity of the music in this room is cool for a while, but a bit monotonous. Although it is a stereotype of all dance music that is all sounds the same, this was really close to actually being the same. Void of verbs, with just a House kicker and some midrange detail. The floor was packed to the point that we could not dance, but instead only do the “Euro Dance”.

The Euro Dance is where the dancer keeps hands directly to the sides, usually at waist level with elbows bent. The dancer wiggles and poses in an imaginary vertical tube 24 inches in diameter (only 18 inches for the girls) in order to save space as most clubs are packed. A boring dance? Yes, but it has another advantage is that it also saves energy, which is very important if you want to dance until 9 a.m. 11 a.m. or even 4 p.m.

A few hours of this and it was time to check out what must be called the “good room” which was off to the right.

GoGo dancers lined the banister on the upper floor, arctic blasts of cold air rushed through the crowd, and a guy with an electric violin jammed out in sync with the music. An excellent example of how techno can be made better with a live performance. The music in this room was much more entertaining with its dramatic builds, massive drops, and epic breakdowns.

The lights, lasers, Arctic Blasts, violinist and crowd were all in harmony. At times it was dark, quiet and calm. Later it was slammin loud and hard, the lights and lasers were turned up to eleven, the violin guy was thrilling and the crowd was euphoric. The arctic blast was a truly surreal sight, especially if you were in the middle of the dance floor in which case you could see only white. Best of all, clean air flowed through the room. Not once was it stuffy, hot, or polluted. Very well sorted out, as close to perfect as you could expect with so many people in such a small area.

It was about 6 a.m. And my attention turned to ravers digest. After all, how could I travel all the way to Ibiza, dance with so many beautiful European women, and neglect to capture them with a camera for all to see?

One in particular seemed to be the essence of delicate European beauty. Hundreds of frames later (I love digital cameras, that used to be a whole years supply of film) my memory card was full. I guessed that I had at least three really good pictures of her, but could not be sure. It would have been easy to pose her and fire the flash, but a good natural shot is always better than a good staged one in my opinion. As much fun as it was, the time was now 8 a.m. and the music was starting to bore me, so Christy and I headed for the door.

“Ooo... the Amnesia Shop!” This club was worthy of a souvenir shirt purchase and this is where we would buy three. One for Christy, and one for myself, as well as one for Sam (number 8, original Ravers Digest Photographer and hardcore party machine) Hope you like the shirt, Sam, you would have loved Amnesia.

The place could only be better with a Drum and Bass room, but you knew I was going to say that. A moment later in the Amnesia store who should appear but my stunning subject! “Do you speak English?” I asked. “A little.” she said. “I took about 200 pictures of you in there trying to get one that was perfect.” I said as I showed here what was in my camera. Her name is Regina and we now have each other's email addresses. “Hey Little Cutie, she can stay with us when she comes to the states, right?”

Unlikely, I know, but good material for the dream world.