101 Places to Get F*cked Up Before You Die: The Ultimate Travel Guide to Partying Around the World

379 Pages·2014·3.23 MB·English

by  Matador Network

Contents

Title Page
Copyright Notice
Warning Label
Pre-Party
1: Blowouts
1. Burning Man; Black Rock City, Nevada
2. Coachella; Indio, California
3. Glastonbury; Glastonbury, United Kingdom
4. Carnaval Humahuaqueño; Jujuy Province, Argentina
5. Cervantino; Guanajuato, Mexico
6. La Tomatina; Buñol, Spain
7. Boryeong Mud Festival; Boryeong, South Korea
8. Saint Patrick’s Day; Dublin, Ireland
9. Full Moon Party; Koh Phangan, Thailand
10. Holi; Holi, India
11. Koninginnedag; Amsterdam, the Netherlands
12. Oktoberfest; Munich, Germany
13. Mardi Gras; New Orleans, Louisiana
2: High Elevation
14. Whistler, British Columbia
15. Anchorage, Alaska
16. Salar de Uyuni, Bolivia
17. Dawson City, Yukon, Canada
18. Kathmandu, Nepal
19. La Paz, Bolivia
20. Portland, Oregon
21. Machu Picchu, Peru
22. Lukla (Mount Everest), Nepal
23. Salta, Argentina
24. Vancouver, British Columbia
25. Žilina, Slovakia
3: Under the Radar
26. McMurdo Station, Antarctica
27. Bucharest, Romania
28. Oxford, United Kingdom
29. Davis, California
30. Johannesburg, South Africa
31. Harare, Zimbabwe
32. Rotterdam, Holland
33. St. John’s, Newfoundland, Canada
34. Padova, Italy
35. Valparaíso, Chile
36. Chengdu, China
37. Ghent, Belgium
38. Portland, Maine
39. Reykjavik, Iceland
40. Tiraspol, Transnistria
4: Dirtbag
41. Goa, India
42. Chişinău, Moldova
43. Antigua, Guatemala
44. Kiev, Ukraine
45. Cairo, Egypt
46. Bangkok, Thailand
47. Mexico City, Mexico
48. Nairobi, Kenya
49. Phuket, Thailand
50. Suzhou, China
5: Bar Crawl
51. Austin, Texas
52. Belfast, Northern Ireland
53. Madrid, Spain
54. Brooklyn, New York
55. Brussels, Belgium
56. Cape Town, South Africa
57. Chicago, Illinois
58. Düsseldorf, Germany
59. Glasgow, Scotland
60. Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada
61. Long Island, New York
62. Lisbon, Portugal
63. Los Angeles, California
64. Berlin, Germany
65. Savannah, Georgia
6: Spendy
66. Charleston, South Carolina
67. London, United Kingdom
68. Copenhagen, Denmark
69. Delhi, India
70. Hong Kong, China
71. Mumbai, India
72. Macau, China
73. Disney World, Orlando, Florida
74. Oslo, Norway
75. São Paulo, Brazil
76. Seoul, South Korea
77. Singapore
78. Tokyo, Japan
79. Washington, D.C.
7: Beach Break
80. San Diego, California
81. Raglan, New Zealand
82. Bali, Indonesia
83. Cabo San Lucas, Mexico
84. Ibiza, Spain
85. Melbourne, Australia
86. Puerto Vallarta, Mexico
87. Atlantic Beach, North Carolina
88. Utila, Honduras
89. Zanzibar, Tanzania
8: Baller
90. Buenos Aires, Argentina
91. Barcelona, Spain
92. Brighton, United Kingdom
93. Montreal, Quebec
94. Las Vegas, Nevada
95. Edinburgh, Scotland
96. New York City, New York
97. Prague, Czech Republic
98. Rome, Italy
99. West Hollywood, California
100. Tel Aviv, Israel
101. San Francisco, California
Photographs
Notes
Last Call
Also by Matador Network
About the Authors and Photographers
Index
Copyright
WARNING LABEL
The depiction of drug and alcohol use, sex,
and general debauchery in this book is not
meant as a condonement but a truthful
accounting of its place in travel culture.
Let’s get real: many of us have either lost
friends or family due to drugs and alcohol,
or know of those whose lives have been
ruined in moments of bad decision-making
while partying—violence, addiction, STDs,
unwanted pregnancy, accidents. Consider
risks versus rewards carefully while
traveling and partying, and make smart
decisions. Stay safe out there, people.
Pre-Party
Let me say outright that there’s nothing to defend or
romanticize about getting fucked up. Like most
everything we do, it’s a cliché. Granted there are all
different contexts and soundtracks that go along with
getting fucked up, a spectrum of motivations and
legalities and societal acceptance. But doesn’t it all
originate from the same elusive wish? To modify the
passage of time somehow? To try and seal ourselves a
little deeper into it, or perhaps off from it, if only for a
while?
But who thinks like this, especially while getting
fucked up? The tendency is just the opposite. People roll
joints or mix Jack and Cokes or craft homemade IPAs or
drop acid and go snowboarding and see themselves and
their friends and what they’re doing as original.
Meanwhile, everyone else is a stereotype.
I was sort of reminded of this on a recent trip to D.C.,
where my friends and I kept making the same
observation: sloppy drunk dudes in suits everywhere. Who
were these fuckers stumbling around the sidewalks of our
nation’s capital?
The last night of the trip we sat in a bar called Science
Club. The bartender, Meegan, was in her mid-thirties, and
despite a thin, stalky body and bleached dreadlocks, she
gave off this protective, almost matronly air. The
conditions felt potentially epic: I was flying out the next
morning, less than eight hours away. Sporleder made a
seemingly ceremonial call for Jäger shots. Why not blow
it out? Meanwhile, Ross was anchoring the bar like a
visiting diplomat, magnanimous, buying drinks for
everyone. The music (CL Smooth and People Under the
Stairs) seemed just the right volume to allow conversation
while almost amplifying the conversation, as if
accelerating the night in a certain direction. We talked
with a couple of young video producers, both female,
about living and working in D.C. (they confirmed our
“drunk dudes in suits” assessment). At some point Ross
set down his fourth or fifth empty tequila glass and said,
almost like a public service announcement, “That’s it, I’m
officially drunk.”
Our tentative plan for late night was some ridiculous
sounding club (Opera), but when we conferred with
Meegan she said—without a trace of humor or pretense
but an almost maternal forewarning—“Opera’s great if
you want douchebags wearing too much cologne and
rhinestone collared shirts all over you.”
“Jesus,” I said.
“Go to Eighteenth Street Lounge. The guy who owns
it is from Thievery Corporation, and they only book good
bands.”
* * *
If there’s a goal in this book, it might just be to guide you
to the Meegans, to the “good bands” of the world. To
accomplish this we gave our travel journalists at Matador