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Why the Ballermann can't be killed

Let's party.

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Why the Ballermann can't be killed

Let's party. Let's go to what is probably the most controversial place in Mallorca. His humble origin gave no indication of what would become of him. It is by no means just a German phenomenon, Spaniards have been involved from the start.

"Ba-Ba-Ballamann" sang the First General Uncertainty from Austria. "My heart is still in Ballermann," languished hit star Wolfgang Petry. "The Ballermann is dead" wrote the WELT. What now? "Ba" like "Bah", place of longing or dead?

That depends on who you ask. Some love him, others hate him, and some don't care at all. But one thing is certain: the Ballermann is a sensation, a tourist magnet and the best-known trademark of Mallorca. As familiar to Germans as the Oktoberfest in Munich or the Reeperbahn in Hamburg.

One could congratulate Mallorca for that. Other holiday destinations would pay (and actually do) a lot of money to have half as much recognition. "You were in Mallorca?" the returnee is asked. And then the next thing is: "Also on Ballermann?"

Curse or blessing is the question. First to the harmless beginnings. In the early 1970s, on the beach in Palma, more and more Germans gathered at the conveniently located beach shack Balneario 6 to chat, eat and drink together. The first football clubs and bowling clubs soon followed.

The beach shack was nothing special. A low-rise building tiled in white and orange, a few square meters in size. And as the name suggests, there were several of them. At the beginning there were ten, from number 0 in Can Pastilla to number 9 in S'Arenal. One every 300 meters.

But the Germans only really enjoyed it at Balneario 6. It was close to their hotels. The other Germans were also standing there, sipping their beers and turning as orange as the low-rise kiosk under the Spanish sun.

That is the secret of successful gastronomy: the others are all there too. Balneario became Ballermann. That was easier to pronounce, especially late in the hour and when the alcohol level was higher. The corruption was funny too.

The infrastructure grew. The "König Pilsener Stube" opened in July 1979 and for the first time offered Lower Rhine draft beer straight from the homeland. A few steps away, the “Schinkenstraße” soon carried Klein-Deutschland to an entire street.

When the beach promenade was rebuilt in 1993, the number of balnearios increased. In German, Balneario means “spa” or “beach bath” and refers to the section of beach, not the beach hut. From then on there were 15 sections.

To the confusion of the regulars, their order was reversed. The chain now started with number 15 in Can Pastilla and ends with number 1 in S'Arenal. The zero was dropped. The old kiosks were demolished and replaced by new buildings. The fun of Balneario 6, which could still be found in roughly the same place after the renovation thanks to the reversed count, remained. The Germans stayed too. Cheers.

The spectacle gained momentum: sangria buckets, bare breasts, huge bawling halls like "Bierkönig", "Almrausch" and since 2000 the "Megapark". German hit stars gave each other the microphone on the beach in Palma. Bernhard Brink and Costa Cordalis in the first generation, Jürgen Drews, who made the "Megapark" his second home. Today, Mickie Krause, Tim Toupet and Ikke Hipgold are responsible for maintaining German party songs.

The zone of beery disinhibition continued to expand and now attracts thousands of visitors every day. Especially in July and August, when the German sports clubs have no games and their members in funny shirts get on the plane expectantly.

In the "Megapark" alone, this roaring cathedral of terror, fits 4000 guests. To get a feel for the crowd, imagine 100 tour buses pull up in front of the sandstone-hued bluff on the beach to unload their party-happy cargo into the island's largest open-air disco.

Misconception number one: Only Germans are behind the Ballermann. Not at all. The "Köpi" was founded by Mallorcan Antonio Ferrer; At the best of times, he and his sons owned a dozen restaurants. The "Megapark" was opened in 2000 by the Mallorcan Grupo Cursach Ocio.

Misconception number two: It's haywire like nowhere else. Certainly there are embarrassments and excesses that are happily transmitted season after season by private broadcasters and tabloids to the astonished people at home in Bottrop or Hamburg-Blankenese (and sometimes even provoked ).

But there are excesses elsewhere, too, where guests overstep their inhibition and alcohol thresholds. This isn't just a Ballermann phenomenon. On Mallorca, for example, you can find them in a similar way in Palmanova or Magaluf, the epicenters of British partying. You can find them on the neighboring island of Ibiza. In winter at Anton in Tirol. We already mentioned the Munich Oktoberfest.

For years efforts have been made to tame the beast, to force the genie back into the, well, Köpi bottle. A little anyway; but with official thoroughness. "Regulations for civilized coexistence" are issued. More than a hundred paragraphs ban the infamous sangria buckets and drinking alcohol on the streets in general.

Or wearing bikinis on public transport. Or sleeping on park benches. Even clairvoyance and card reading are forbidden, at least without official permission. Heavy fines for non-compliance. Dancing on the tables is allowed. You can still sing, but not as loud.

Every clean-up action attracts as much attention as the excesses that are the subject of complaints. That's the great and absurd thing about Mallorca's famous party mile. What was just ugly is suddenly considered to be in danger of extinction.

"The hour of dynamite" boomed the local newspaper "Ultima Hora" when excavators moved in to demolish unsolicited buildings. "Etiquette for mall tourists!" trumpeted a German television station when hoteliers and restaurateurs agreed on common rules of conduct. And the broadcaster stated – unclear whether jubilantly or regretfully: “The excesses will soon be over!”

Ballermann has also been declared desolate and dead, perhaps the greatest humiliation. "The swing is out," the "Spiegel" noted cold-heartedly. The Ballermann has "given the sangria spoon" was the WELT. But to reassure the celebration fans: The newspaper did not write this in the Corona years, when there was actually a cemetery peace at Balneario 6 for the first time in decades, but had its "obituary of a dear nightmare" ring out in 2003. How to be wrong.

The Ballermann is changing, the rules are getting stricter, the garbage is a problem, Jürgen Drews no longer sings, vegan kebabs are required on Schinkenstraße. But the Ballermann is far from dead.

And one thing should also be noted: Its greatest space advantage and origin, the Platja de Palma right in front of the door, is a really beautiful beach. Four and a half kilometers long and very well maintained. The climate of the bay is the mildest in Mallorca. It's worth going there. You could then report at home: I was at Ballermann. For taking a bath. This will astonish your listeners.

The text is a chapter from the book “Mallorca. Popular errors and other truths” by Frank Rumpf, Klartext-Verlag.

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