SyndicationAug272008
Nikki Beach Marbella - various times of the year from 2004 till present date
Nikki Beach Marbella. Arrogantly hailed as the 'Sexiest Place on the Earth'. Well that is what the website says. For the past 4 years of going down to Marbella, it has been a regular feature on Blondie's credit card statement. In fact, I think Blondie has single handedly kept the owner in Russian hookers for the entire last 4 years. Shame she wont be going back again after the last visit, which was a disaster. Have you ever been amongst the cesspit of humanity on a Sunday afternoon? Having lived in Bolton, it should come as no surprise that I would have had first hand experience of such creatures. But I didnt expect things to come full circle and them come back into fashion in my 30's.
Nikki Beach is the sort of place where you go on a whim. Well we do anyway. It isnt near anything - apart from our house, rather conveniently :) You go in, with the intention of having '1 mojito' and 6 hours later , you leave with a contingent of Russians, Pakistanis with guns (dont ask), the DJ, an overpriced sarong and a bill that will make you want to cry. You sure as hell wont be able to drive your car home and you will definately never, ever, want to drink champagne again. But it's all part of experience right?
Wrong. So very wrong. Blondie and The Buik have sworn never to return to Nikki Beach after being there on a fateful Sunday of July. Anyone that has been to Nikki cites 'Sundays' as the best day to go down for a sneeky Mojito or two. It is awash with beautiful looking people, who invariably get more attractive as the 8th Mojito kicks in. Uniform is Missoni and breast implants for the girls, and a huge fat wallet and loafers for the guys.
We had got to know one of the guys that worked at Nikki at Easter and he gave us his mobile number in case we wanted a nice table in the VIP bit when we would come in the Summer. I am always well up for a bit of VIP treatment (the very concept of VIP in Amsterdam does not exist, slipping a waiter anything other than your mobile number just brings stares of confusion!) so we gave him a call as we were planning a heavy Sunday afternoon session and wanted to be guaranteed some level of service.
We arrived and had to negotiate the 'door bitch' whose job it was to make everyones lives as miserable as possible. What a waste of space she was. The new friendly barman greeted us and waived us past 'Door Bitch' and was amply rewarded for his services before taking us to the very best table in the VIP bit.
It all started out rather civilised, we both had a mojito and plate of the Gambas pil pil and some lightly fried calamari, which were lush. Nikki Beach obviously decided to invest in a good fryer! Only problem with the food, is there wasnt enough of it to soak up the bottle of Dom Perignon Rosé that had accidentally found its way into an ice bucket next to us. We'll gloss over the fact that it was revolting and made me never want to drink anything from the Moet and Chandon stable ever again. So acidic (my favourite word when it comes to fizz, everything is 'acidic') and worst of all, it just was not gluggable. The Buik refused to drink anymore and ordered a bottle of Cristal to console himself. There isnt anything worse than the anticipation of drinking expensive, well refered fizz, and finding it tastes like Ghandi's flipflop. Utterly depressing.
The Cristal was going down nicely and that's when things really started to kick off. Groups of guys, underage I hasten to add (something I've never seen before down there), resplendent in stripey shirts, shorts and fully gelled hair (think mini Hoofers) all completely off their rockers, gurning to their little hearts content and swigging alcopops (how can 14 year olds afford 15 Euros bacardi breezers?!) Now I've reserved my vitriol for the 'girls' that were in attendance that day, because this is something that irks me incessantly. Liggers. You know the sort. I mean specifically girl liggers. Slight in frame and fairly attractive. More horse than human - too much white teeth and tan, but the overall picture (8 Mojitos deep) is something that you wouldnt be too depressed about waking up next to the following morning. Well - that Sunday there were hoards of them. All trying to siddle into the VIP area and ligg off the scores of portly Russians and Dutch that were drinking Nikki out of champagne. A couple of the more sprightly blondes made it past the bouncer and attached themselves to a bunch of guys next to us who were rather worse for wear. They started downing the fizz quicker than you can say 'I'm a cheap and nasty ligger'. God. How depressing. 2 sets of plastic breasts charmed the bouncer into the VIP area where the Russians were and decided to try and glugg down their fizz, before someone, rather hilariously, realised that they didnt in fact know these ligging girls and hauled their sorry arses out of the place. Now maybe I am too emancipated for my own good, but dont you think it's kind of embarassing trying to ligg champagne, or anything off a guy? Doesn't it make you feel proud to kinda buy your own drinks? Who wants to date, be friends with or even be in the company of girls that dont pay their way? The Buik takes a rather dim view of these sort I am afraid. And if Blondie and The Buik ceased to exist, then he wouldnt shack up with that lot for love, money or a lapdance. Sorry girls, you'll have to put your overtanned hand in your fake Burberry wallet and pay for your own drinks if you ever end up with The Buik.
As the day went on - and I stupidly decided to go for broke and get another bottle of Cristal :( Nikki just became crap. The sound system isnt all that good, I think Buik's stereo in his Seat is better ;) and a group of Spanish kids managed to get a table just below us. One of them waved around Daddy's Platinum AMEX - and the serving staff brought them 12 bottles of Piper Hendrick - which were promptly opened and sprayed on the bevvy of plastic liggers below. A vulgar display of wealth at the best of times, but I guess you wouldnt really want to drink it. Piper is just horrid champagne. Spraying it is better than drinking it. That little display of ostentatiousness apparantly failed to satisfy the Spanish kids and they took to throwing Vodka over each other. And at 200 Euros a bottle - yes you read right - 200 Euros a bottle, I think the owner of that AMEX is going to have a bigger headache than the kids the next day. At 8pm, we called it a day and sloped off home.
Nikki Beach Marbella. Not the Sexiest place on Earth, but the chaviest, cheap and nastiest place on Earth. Patronise at your peril.
Nikki Beach Marbella. Arrogantly hailed as the 'Sexiest Place on the Earth'. Well that is what the website says. For the past 4 years of going down to Marbella, it has been a regular feature on Blondie's credit card statement. In fact, I think Blondie has single handedly kept the owner in Russian hookers for the entire last 4 years. Shame she wont be going back again after the last visit, which was a disaster. Have you ever been amongst the cesspit of humanity on a Sunday afternoon? Having lived in Bolton, it should come as no surprise that I would have had first hand experience of such creatures. But I didnt expect things to come full circle and them come back into fashion in my 30's.
Nikki Beach is the sort of place where you go on a whim. Well we do anyway. It isnt near anything - apart from our house, rather conveniently :) You go in, with the intention of having '1 mojito' and 6 hours later , you leave with a contingent of Russians, Pakistanis with guns (dont ask), the DJ, an overpriced sarong and a bill that will make you want to cry. You sure as hell wont be able to drive your car home and you will definately never, ever, want to drink champagne again. But it's all part of experience right?
Wrong. So very wrong. Blondie and The Buik have sworn never to return to Nikki Beach after being there on a fateful Sunday of July. Anyone that has been to Nikki cites 'Sundays' as the best day to go down for a sneeky Mojito or two. It is awash with beautiful looking people, who invariably get more attractive as the 8th Mojito kicks in. Uniform is Missoni and breast implants for the girls, and a huge fat wallet and loafers for the guys.
We had got to know one of the guys that worked at Nikki at Easter and he gave us his mobile number in case we wanted a nice table in the VIP bit when we would come in the Summer. I am always well up for a bit of VIP treatment (the very concept of VIP in Amsterdam does not exist, slipping a waiter anything other than your mobile number just brings stares of confusion!) so we gave him a call as we were planning a heavy Sunday afternoon session and wanted to be guaranteed some level of service.
We arrived and had to negotiate the 'door bitch' whose job it was to make everyones lives as miserable as possible. What a waste of space she was. The new friendly barman greeted us and waived us past 'Door Bitch' and was amply rewarded for his services before taking us to the very best table in the VIP bit.
It all started out rather civilised, we both had a mojito and plate of the Gambas pil pil and some lightly fried calamari, which were lush. Nikki Beach obviously decided to invest in a good fryer! Only problem with the food, is there wasnt enough of it to soak up the bottle of Dom Perignon Rosé that had accidentally found its way into an ice bucket next to us. We'll gloss over the fact that it was revolting and made me never want to drink anything from the Moet and Chandon stable ever again. So acidic (my favourite word when it comes to fizz, everything is 'acidic') and worst of all, it just was not gluggable. The Buik refused to drink anymore and ordered a bottle of Cristal to console himself. There isnt anything worse than the anticipation of drinking expensive, well refered fizz, and finding it tastes like Ghandi's flipflop. Utterly depressing.
The Cristal was going down nicely and that's when things really started to kick off. Groups of guys, underage I hasten to add (something I've never seen before down there), resplendent in stripey shirts, shorts and fully gelled hair (think mini Hoofers) all completely off their rockers, gurning to their little hearts content and swigging alcopops (how can 14 year olds afford 15 Euros bacardi breezers?!) Now I've reserved my vitriol for the 'girls' that were in attendance that day, because this is something that irks me incessantly. Liggers. You know the sort. I mean specifically girl liggers. Slight in frame and fairly attractive. More horse than human - too much white teeth and tan, but the overall picture (8 Mojitos deep) is something that you wouldnt be too depressed about waking up next to the following morning. Well - that Sunday there were hoards of them. All trying to siddle into the VIP area and ligg off the scores of portly Russians and Dutch that were drinking Nikki out of champagne. A couple of the more sprightly blondes made it past the bouncer and attached themselves to a bunch of guys next to us who were rather worse for wear. They started downing the fizz quicker than you can say 'I'm a cheap and nasty ligger'. God. How depressing. 2 sets of plastic breasts charmed the bouncer into the VIP area where the Russians were and decided to try and glugg down their fizz, before someone, rather hilariously, realised that they didnt in fact know these ligging girls and hauled their sorry arses out of the place. Now maybe I am too emancipated for my own good, but dont you think it's kind of embarassing trying to ligg champagne, or anything off a guy? Doesn't it make you feel proud to kinda buy your own drinks? Who wants to date, be friends with or even be in the company of girls that dont pay their way? The Buik takes a rather dim view of these sort I am afraid. And if Blondie and The Buik ceased to exist, then he wouldnt shack up with that lot for love, money or a lapdance. Sorry girls, you'll have to put your overtanned hand in your fake Burberry wallet and pay for your own drinks if you ever end up with The Buik.
As the day went on - and I stupidly decided to go for broke and get another bottle of Cristal :( Nikki just became crap. The sound system isnt all that good, I think Buik's stereo in his Seat is better ;) and a group of Spanish kids managed to get a table just below us. One of them waved around Daddy's Platinum AMEX - and the serving staff brought them 12 bottles of Piper Hendrick - which were promptly opened and sprayed on the bevvy of plastic liggers below. A vulgar display of wealth at the best of times, but I guess you wouldnt really want to drink it. Piper is just horrid champagne. Spraying it is better than drinking it. That little display of ostentatiousness apparantly failed to satisfy the Spanish kids and they took to throwing Vodka over each other. And at 200 Euros a bottle - yes you read right - 200 Euros a bottle, I think the owner of that AMEX is going to have a bigger headache than the kids the next day. At 8pm, we called it a day and sloped off home.
Nikki Beach Marbella. Not the Sexiest place on Earth, but the chaviest, cheap and nastiest place on Earth. Patronise at your peril.