The swinging beats of George Morel's Let's Groove were blasting out of the Es Paradis sound system care of Clara Da Costa, who was rocking a savage neck pop in the newly positioned DJ booth. A trio of girls in corsets and tutus were pogo-ing in time upon strange bouncing-blade boots, Es Paradis dancers were flicking long black capes and head jewels around on a dais above the main floor, giant hanging balls made of light bulbs were pulsing on and off and my friend was thrusting a drink in my hand as I gazed down on the writhing dance floor, which appeared to have broken out into a stripey pillow fight. It was hard to believe that only a few hours ago Es Paradis was still in winter slumber; at Saturday night's opening party the club felt very, very alive.
Es Paradis is the brightest lit club on the island, which might put me off if I was looking for a dark and dirty techno night, but that's not what the San Antonio venue is about. The brighter space encourages way more interaction on the dance floor - and speaking of the dance floor, at Es Paradis you are really required to move! A simple step touch usually wont cut it; you'll have to get a proper swing on with the people around you to the house music of the minute. It's also a place that values aesthetic - you need only glance at the ivy and bougainvillea covered walls, the high pyramid ceiling coated in steel scaffolding and grecian pillars surrounding circular dance floors to see that - so dressing up a touch won't go astray, so long as it's an outfit you can rock a sharp boogie in, of course.
The DJ booth has a new home this season, now out in the middle of the club at the edge of the sunken circular floor in the middle. It feels much more in the action and makes that particular part of the club the rowdiest of all. Good move. Clara de Costa was the hero of the booth that night, delivering a jacking set which had the power worthy of a superclub but the eclecticism of a great house party. She guided the dance floor smoothly from Stardust to Michael Jackson to Dennis Ferrer and Jerome Sydenham's classic, Sandcastles. Her excellent tune selections kept the mood high; even the most unshakeable sour-faces couldn't maintain it for long and sooner or later a tune would come around and force a smile.
Though it's a familiar sight for me now, it's not hard to look at Es Paradis at its liveliest with Ibiza Virgin eyes, and imagine it as everything you hoped an Ibiza superclub would be and yet like nothing you could have imagined. One of the most beautiful clubs in the world is back in business.
WORDS | Jordan Smith PHOTOGRAPHY | James Chapman
