Pacha flower power with Pete Tong
The 90s was my Ibiza time and Pacha was my place.
No name-dropping or anything but there’s a story to this mix of classic Pete Tong sounds taken from a CD given to me at some shindig at Claudia Schiffer’s villa near Camp de Mar, Mallorca.

In the summer of ’98, on the spur of a moment, I decided to escape corporate drudgery and head for the Balearic Islands. First to Mallorca to recover my sanity, then to Ibiza for party time. Back to Mallorca to sober up before re-joining the rat race in London.
It happened like this: I met a girl, sipping a cocktail, sitting on a stool at a bar in Docklands. We exchanged sideways glances and said “Hello”. Her name was Lena, and she was from Russia. Her diction was perfect and educated. We were two strangers, speaking in low voices to the other’s profile, seeking connections to embrace us. Suddenly, I don’t know what compelled me, an innate addiction to risk and adventure I suppose, but I found myself asking if she would like to go on holiday. She fell silent and stared into the distance.
Eventually, she nodded.
“OK,” I said, but would it be alright if I tagged along. She turned away to look at her friends who were being entranced by some shiny-suited banker reptiles. She pushed her glass towards the bar-tender and, for the first time, lifted her face to mine, “Of course, why not,” she said.
She was truly beautiful; lightly tanned skin, long auburn hair, and hazel eyes that glinted with mischief as she returned my smile.
This glimpse of my history shall be continued later, in the meantime here’s a short film I put together with a little help from my friends. The soundtrack is pure Pete Tong.
By RODERICK JARLAITH McRIVEN May 2021
© Rod McRiven 2021
Picture: Jennifer Marquez and Pacha