Steph Hall tells Pugwash about her experience of working in Ibiza

Where do I begin? After spending the last two months working on the white isle, it's time to get back to reality...

The adventure began Saturday 2nd August when my friend Alex, met me at the airport. We booked a hostel for six days so we had somewhere to stay while we were looking for jobs as you can't apply for a job before you go out there; you just have to start looking when you arrive.

Our holiday in June allowed us to do our research, so we got speaking to people and were told which places to go to to find work and accommodation, the main places being the Ship Inn and Upmarket.So, after we had unpacked at our (very sweaty) room, we had an early night to ensure we were ready to hunt for a job the next day.

After a long walk into the main area, San Antonio - we went straight to the Ship to take down numbers from job ads. At the same time, we called some guys to look at the apartment they were advertising. This one was a winner. For 250 euros, we had a washing machine, our own room, and could pick up the internet from the pub below. This was a bargain, as some of my friends lived in absolute pigstys.

Imagine four mattresses on the floor with six people sharing them, living with cockroaches for company in cramped, hot conditions. Not nice. One of my friends lived in a basement which resembled a prison cell, with no window. Another shared a one bed apartment with eleven other people. Luxury it isn't.

But at the end of the day, myself and thousands of other Brits didn't come to Ibiza to live like royalty. We came for the experience of working in one of the best clubbing countries in the world, meeting like-minded people and involving ourselves in another culture.

Now we had a place to live, we had more time to look for a job. On our first day, we sold club tickets by cold calling people in their hotel rooms. Working six until eleven pm in as many hotels as you can for an average of one euro per ticket sold isn't fun. After knocking on around forty doors, my knuckles were killing me, not to mention my soul, as about three people opened their door.

That night, I made eight euros and Alex made nothing. We gave it one more day and made 25 euros, but it was torturous and we both packed it in. Luckily, as we were walking around, Al got chatting to a photographer who went around bars and restaurants taking pictures then turning them into keyrings and he ended up working with him. This lasted a couple of weeks, until Alex found a job selling laughing gas in a bar.

My next job involved working as a PR for a bar. However, after the second day I was sooooo bored as it was on a quiet street. Standing outside it for four and a half hours wasn't exactly thrilling.

I'm not usually a quitter, but I knew there were better jobs out there if I looked. There was a trial later in the week for PRs for Clubland a new night in Ibiza that turned out to be the success story of the year due to its popularity. I turned up not knowing how many positions there were and only five other people there, so I was determined to get this job. I was told to come back later that night for a trial.

After an hour of going around with the existing PRs, listening to how they sold the night to tourists, it was my turn to do it with the bosses listening. Ten minutes later my bosses told me I had the job. Success at last!

During my time working I discovered that PR-ing is illegal if you don't have a licence. We always worked in twos so one of us kept an eye out for the police. One of the girls had been arrested previously and threatened with a night in jail if she didn't tell them who she worked for.

Obviously she relented and the club was fined 1500 Euros. Most people were in the same boat, as each licence costs your employer 1500 Euros and most people work in San An, which is like a little community where everyone knows everyone.

The Policia Local and Guardia Civil seem to be really cracking down on what Ibiza is famous for. Due to new licensing laws, doors must shut at 7am, people can be strip searched at one of the clubs and no after-parties are allowed.

However, it was good to see that they are your employer 1500 Euros and most people work in San An, which is like a little community where everyone knows everyone.

The Policia Local and Guardia Civil seem to be really cracking down on what Ibiza is famous for. Due to new licensing laws, doors must shut at 7am, people can be strip searched at one of the clubs and no after-parties are allowed.

However, it was good to see that they are cracking down on local crime too. The looky-looky men stand along the promenade and the West End, aka The Strip, (where all the bars are) saying things like "Hey chicken nugget, you want skunk, pills, charlie, hash" whilst parading around with flashing glasses and umbrella hats' you have to see it to believe it.

Also, it's actually the men that need to be more careful in San An. The looky-looky women hunt in a pack of wolves for incapacitated men to offer them sexual favours for money. Seeing them grab men by their wrists in a wrench like grip and dragging them down dark streets just shows how ruthless and desperate for money they are. It's sad to see that some people have to go to those lengths to make money.

Another problem over there is the local and Italian men the ones I met were perverts! When I was walking down the prom in the daytime, an Italian reached out and stroked my side, which I wouldn't mind if he was good looking and spoke in a language I could actually understand, but it was the sheer nerve that they had!

Although, this had happened to a lot of the female workers, along with young boys on skateboards slapping your backsides as they go by. You can only imagine what their parents are like!

It certainly wasn't all negative though. I had some of my best nights out there. With eight clubs on one island, you're certainly spoilt for choice! There's either Pacha for the more flush and glamorous clientele, or El Divino for it's Hed Kandi night. Privilege (the world's biggest club) was the residency for Tiesto.

There was the infamous DC10, Underground, Eden, Es Paradis and of course, Amnesia. Hosting the best nights on the island, it's easy to see why it pulls in crowds most nights of the week. It's nights include Cocoon, Armada with Armin Van Buuren, Cream and the legendary Manumission: now that was a sight to see, try youtub-ing it. The atmosphere is electric and everyone is there to have a good time.

There's no attitude or rudeness, just thousands of clubbers out to have a good time. The ice canons they had are AMAZING! They're cold blasts of air and smoke which last a couple of seconds.

Whilst I was there I got to see the likes of Roger Sanchez, Paul Van Dyk, Eddie Halliwell, Judge Jules and Swedish House Mafia and those were just my favourite DJs. I also had a claim to fame by standing about a metre away from

Gary Dourdan, star of CSI who played Warwick Brown, randomly in a pharmancy in Ibiza Town. As I thought it was impossible for an B-list celeb to be in a place like that and for me to be so close, I didn't do anything and now I could kick myself for not asking and grabbing a photo. Gutted doesn't even cover it!

My favourite parts of the trip included a weekly boat trip called Shipwrecked. At 7am, a boat goes out to sea for three hours where anything goes, with a bar and DJ on board. It was even better because the sea was choppy and everyone was falling everywhere or hanging on for dear life. Let me tell you, the three hours it lasted for passed in a misty haze!

Another high point was the "Shit Party" - the biggest worker's party of the year held in an abandoned zoo. It was organised by a man called Loco who has ran them for 5 years. All of the money made from the parties goes to a charity like the Samaritans and this year, it made 22,000 Euros.

Everyone had to go in fancy dress and there were some ingenious ideas such as a toilet and looky-looky men and women. The seal pit was transformed into a stage area and there was a huge foam pit which people where swimming in. All the DJs and photographers worked for free and for most people, the night was a very messy one.

There was a lot of good looking men there even a few stallions. Everyone was so loved up, like little love hearts, but there's a few sly foxes out there to get you. Nevertheless, it was the best party I have been to.

So, if you're thinking of going out there next year, go on Facebook and search for groups like Ibiza 2009 and Ibiza workers. Start now and make contacts to guarantee the best time of your life.