Camping It Up: Alcúdia's Mile

The Mile has always been camp. Camp in the widest sense of the word. It has an an addictive aura of the naff; Eurovision with karaoke, giggles, lager and shots. Appropriate, therefore, that drag queens came to "Bells Street" on Friday night, and were introduced by a couple who could have passed for Eurovision presenters. Ángel in black suit and Emma in full-length, body-hugging glittery white. She looked a million dollars; Ángel more than just a few bob, too. Ángel did the Spanish intro, Emma the English; also in good Eurovision style, even if Emma's attempts at whipping up some whooping, everyone-alright reaction did rather fall on not deaf but typically restrained British ears.

There is something gloriously tacky about drag acts. They are an expression of the absurd grotesque, rather like The Mile itself, off which the lights of Bells Street (the Calle Astoria) blazed out in the night-time blackness, and they looked magnificent, the lights, that is, if not necessarily the drags. But the whole event was magnificently silly; just as The Mile should be.

There is an appalling snobbery shown towards The Mile. In some quarters anyway. It is shown by those for whom "Alcúdia" is synonymous with holiday devil's work and of course with the ridiculously simplistic and unthinking "Blackpool" metaphor. Shown by those who have forgotten that holiday is meant, above all else, to be fun.

There have been calls for years for Bells Street to be closed to traffic and to be pedestrianised. It was closed on Friday night, except for the stage where the entrants in Miss Drag Mallorca 2010 paraded, pouted and posed. They should repeat the exercise at least once a week. Put on an event. Music, laughter, drink, volume and fun.

Everything was there. Groups of Spaniards; legions of tourists, some looking baffled by the whole thing, others clicking away with their digitals and mobiles, having their own photos taken with a drag or several; footy on big screens; the smell of grilling meat and curry; music over a system; gangs of reps out on the lash.

Naff and utterly wonderful.

And after the parade of contestants, came the chance to club the rest of the night away. Club music. Amazing to think that it is twenty years since music was changed for ever. And this was one of the things that did it -
The Future Sound Of London, "Papua New Guinea" feat. Lisa Gerrard (and not the Cocteau Twins' Elizabeth Fraser as is often mistaken; she appeared on other FSOL stuff):



Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.