I recently read the BCM Planet Dance in Magaluf, Mallorca has been shut down because its owner has been thrown in jail. This brought me back to the time I was at a Magaluf party in 2015 – a memory that I prefer not to reminisce about.

One of my goals since I started this blog in 2014 was to visit the top 20 clubs in the world and write about them. So far, I’ve been to 12, including Fabric, Green Valley, and a myriad of Ibiza and Vegas nightclubs. I visited Mallorca at the tail end of the summer of 2015 with my Spanish friend Ismael. Therefore, BCM Planet Dance in Magaluf, Mallorca, #10 on the list, was on my to-do list – I had to check out the Magaluf party scene!

Mallorca is beautiful

Firstly, I must say that Mallorca is an amazing island and we had a wonderful time.

For one, it has beautiful beaches..

And then there’s the amazing seafood…

Last but not least, the cultural diversity. There’s even a fully German biergarten – the infamous Bierkoning in S’Arenal – full of hundreds of red-faced Germans chugging beer and watching football (or the go-go dancers.)

In fact, Mallorca is jokingly referred to as the 17th German state, because the sheer number of German tourists that spend the summer there.

Strangely enough the waitresses in the biergarten didn’t even know how to speak Spanish nor English!

After spending a couple days in the sun and eating good food, we were ready to go all out on our last night with some Magaluf partying!

The Magaluf Party Scene

BCM Planet Dance is in Magaluf. Magaluf is infamous around the world; people refer to it as Shagaluf. The name says it all – it’s a place to get trashed and get laid, popular among young Brits. Magaluf has been thrust into the spotlight again and again with depravities like people passing out on the street, people performing sex acts in public, and a couple years ago, the Mamading incident.

Consequently, our expectations were not high for the night’s activities, but we were wildly curious to see Magaluf for ourselves. Plus, the club must have been voted #10 on the DJ Mag Top 100, so it couldn’t be that bad, could it?

That evening, we excitedly boarded the city bus from Palma and traveled 45 minutes to Magaluf.

When we arrived at the Magaluf party strip, we were instantly surrounded by flashing neon lights and young party-goers sporting accents from all regions of the United Kingdom. We were giddy as it was exactly like a scene from the Magaluf Weekender, a show about young Brits’ first holiday abroad partying without Mum and Dad. There were drunk kids left and right. How amusing!

We went into a bar and Ismael ordered a drink in Spanish. The waitress rolled her eyes at us as she curtly said with a Jordie accent, “I don’t speak Spanish”. Slightly taken aback, Ismael ordered his drink in English. We then sat down and finished our drinks as we chatted about how Ismael was probably the only Spaniard in this town.

After drinks, we wandered down the main Magaluf party strip. Soon enough, a guy approached us: “Hey lads! Looking to party in Magaluf tonight?”

He was selling tickets to BCM Planet Dance. As I recall, the ticket was around 30 euros, all you can drink, and even came with a free “gift” of a BCM tank top. While we were deliberating, he delivered the punch line: “They don’t check IDs!”

Ismael was 30-years-old; a big, bearded Spanish man. I was 26 years old. How old did he think we were? This should have served as a sign for the night to come…

Our Night Out at BCM Planet Dance

Since drinks were all included, we thought we didn’t need to pre-drink and headed directly to BCM Planet Dance. Eventually I came to regret that decision as pre-drinking was definitely necessary to enjoy the place.

First of all, the drinks were of really, really poor quality. I got a vodka tonic, and the vodka really tasted like gasoline. And the drinks were so acidic that after two drinks, I was sick to the stomach and could not drink anymore. The worst thing is I couldn’t even buy better alcohol if I wanted to!

The whole club’s decor reminded me of a middle school dance: tacky and cheaply pulled together. If Ibiza or Vegas clubs were a 10 in terms of decor, BCM was a 4.

Furthermore, the music was very mainstream EDM – not my cup of tea.

And the Magaluf party people, as foreshadowed by the guy who sold us the tickets, all looked 10 years younger than us.

Somehow Ismael and I separated. Given the combination of the setting, music, and crowd, I accepted my fate that I wasn’t going to have an epic night that I had wished for. Therefore, I settled into a corner and quietly observed the crowd as the scene of adolescent drunken debauchery unfolded. Several couples were making out on the side, there was some dry humping, and some girl’s dress was basically falling off of her.

My Encounter with a Young Brit

Suddenly, someone tapped me on the shoulder. It was a boy, around 17 years old, tall and with a friendly smile. He asked me my name and I responded with my go-to fake Starbucks name, “Amy”. He couldn’t hear me so he whipped out his iPhone and pulled out the Notes app. We proceeded to have a full on conversation on his phone’s notepad, passing the phone back and forth. When I got tired of typing and just tried to talk to him, he would insist on using the notepad. Since I had nothing better to do, I complied. We must have been standing there “chatting” for at least 20 minutes. He asked me if I wanted a drink via Notes, and I accepted. We went to the bar and he got me a (free) drink.

Ismael was still nowhere to be found so I just assumed he was having a good time. The boy was still keenly “chatting” with me. He “told” me about how he is starting uni next year and came to Magaluf with his friends to party.

“Do you want to go outside for some air?” he typed. I nodded. We went outside to get some fresh air and I heard his voice for the first time. Finally, Ismael got in touch. I told the 18-year that I have to go find my friend. He asked for my number so that he can text me to hang out. I gave it to him and said bye.

I found Ismael: “¡Ei! ¿Has ligado? (Hey! Did you flirt with anyone?)”

Ismael was fuming, “¡No! ¡Sólo hay chicas chungas! (No! There are only shitty girls!)”

He proceeded to tell me about how he tried to talk to a girl, and before he even opened his mouth, the girl grabbed her friend and said “I’m a lesbian!”

He tried to say something back, but the girl just shoved him, yelling “No!”

“I’ve never met such rude girls in my life!” Ismael complained.

We decided we’ve seen enough of Magaluf parties and that it was time to call it a night. With all the luck we had left that night, we caught the night bus back to Palma just as it was about to leave.

The 18-year old boy texted me several times the next day asking me my plans and telling me about his. I didn’t respond. I felt bad for ghosting someone so young and innocent and hoped I hadn’t hurt his feelings. However, I suppose rejection by a girl is a life lesson he’d learn sooner or later.

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In conclusion, what I learned was:

Don’t trust the DJ Mag Top 100 Clubs. Skip the Magaluf parties. And party with people your own age.

If you liked this piece, you might enjoy my story of how I met a stingy Catalan in Berghain or my observations of how men from different countries hit on women in clubs.

Check out clubs and parties I DO recommend.