You're barely off the plane, sleepy, lights off, the most famous French Earth you harpooned by the swimsuit,
invites you to dance, hop! here, right now, in his nightclub airport named "F *** me I'm famous' - the translation is probably unnecessary - located between gates 12 and 13 and open round the clock. It is both surprising and tempting because on the poster, David Guetta has a Christ-look, eyes superhero bursting as two pellets of pure light.
L'ÎLE "NUMBER ONE" ON THE SCALE coolness
At this point, you still have options. If you have a project to swallow a whole colony of mushrooms or if you are in possession of one cubic meter of ecstasy that will allow you to take more than five minutes the sound shock, you have the right not to succumb to the preliminary modern idol to which the natives passing devote an inordinate worship. David Guetta, number one on the universal scale DJ, Emperor of Ibiza, the island number one on the global scale of coolness, the perfect world of techno endless and taboo.
However, if you want to take your time to assess the reasonable distance that still separates you from the hell of the dance, you have to leave quietly in the countryside, dropping playa d'en Bossa beach concrete and neon located just outside the airport, between the track aircraft and the old town. Disciplinary camp night
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