Road Trip Through Florida – My Diary – Part 6 – Hot Girls, Hard Liquor, Thousands of Party-Hungry Students, and DJ Pauly D – It’s Spring Break, Baby!!! 

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SPRING BREAK!!!!

This stretch of coastline was also famously known as Panama City Beach – a dreamy and unusually peaceful vacation spot throughout the year, except during March and April. And it just so happened to be March when we arrived. During these two notorious months, hundreds of thousands of college students from all over the U.S. flocked to this coastal region to celebrate the world-famous Spring Break.

Over the next five days, we would witness pure madness.

Slowly but surely, we approached the end of Panama City. Only one long bridge over Saint Andrew Bay now separated us from the narrow peninsula – or rather, the party oasis – right on the Gulf of Mexico. That morning we had left the middle of nowhere in Perry behind. Now we found ourselves arriving at the epicenter of ecstasy and euphoria.

At least, that was the image we had of Spring Break from all the documentaries and reports we had seen back in Germany – and we hoped to experience exactly that.

And finally, we were in Panama City Beach. Our first destination: the club “La Vela”, located right on the beach and owned by German expat Patrick Pfeffer.

More precisely, the club belongs to him and his brother Thorsten, but Patrick is the showman and the public face, while his brother prefers to stay in the background, handling staff and controlling. But first, a quick detour into the club’s history before we move on. In 1984, their father Alois Pfeffer – a well-known German architect – designed and built the club. At that time, the beach club was significantly smaller than it is today. Over the years, it was continuously expanded, with numerous new areas being added. Today, the club has a capacity of nearly 6,000 guests and has become well-known not only across the United States, partly thanks to MTV, but especially in Germany through RTL2 and ProSieben. Two-thirds of its annual revenue is made within just two months.

We had an appointment at the club with Patrick. We parked in the club’s large parking lot and didn’t have to pay the usual 20 dollars like everyone else who wanted to park there, because we had told the lady at the entrance that we were from Germany and friends of Patrick. The girls wanted to wait in the car for now, so I headed toward the club entrance on my own. Out here, without having seen the beach yet, you wouldn’t have guessed that in just a few hours, chaos would erupt in the streets and in and around the clubs. Most students were using the time to recover from the previous night, restock their food and alcohol supplies at local supermarkets, just chill out, or—as we would soon see—already kickstart the party again at the beach. But overall, it still felt like the calm before the storm.

At the entrance of the club, which also served as a daytime passageway to the beach — provided one had paid the entrance fee — I encountered two staff members. I once again told one of them that I had an appointment with Patrick, that I had come all the way from Germany, would be spending a few days with him, and asked where I might find him. He explained that Patrick had just left but would be back in about two hours, and offered to call the club manager for me. I agreed immediately, and he reached for his walkie-talkie.

About 15 minutes later, an older lady appeared — the club manager, working for the Pfeffer brothers. I explained to her once more who I was, and finally, she called Patrick on his phone and informed him that I was there. He seemed pleased by the news — at least that’s how it came across — and told her he’d be with us soon. But before that, she was to hand us the club’s VIP cards so that we could move freely around and explore the place.

With the personalized plastic cards in hand, we returned to the car to inform the girls about everything. Happy to hear the positive news and that everything seemed in order, we all — or rather, all the women — headed back into the club and then down to the beach. A full-on party was already underway, and the crowd was going wild — in a good way. It was clear that alcohol was flowing and unmistakably suggestive signals were being exchanged between men and women. I figured, like anywhere else in the world, people were already lining up their evening dates here.

We went back into the club and waited by the pool for Patrick to finally show up. That would still take a while, and during that time, Melly and Mary became increasingly nervous and complained that they were cold. They all decided to wait for him in the car and left me alone in the club. Fine by me — better that than them continuing to nag me here.

After 20 minutes, Patrick finally pulled up, and we saw each other in person for the first time, even though we had sporadically known each other on Facebook for two years. It’s funny when you suddenly stand face to face and can greet someone personally. His third question right away was, “How are you doing, how’s the trip been so far, and where are your girls?” When I told him that the poor little frostbites were waiting in the car, he burst out laughing but then immediately suggested we head to his place right away and that I should just follow him with our car. No sooner said than done, he got into his Mercedes SL AMG and drove to the parking lot exit.

“Grand Lagoon” – The Upscale Neighborhood of Panama City Beach

We followed him in our car, and the drive took us to the eastern part of Panama City Beach, to an upscale neighborhood called “Grand Lagoon.” Entry into this residential area was monitored by security, and only residents or registered guests were allowed through. Patrick stopped at the gatehouse, spoke with the staff member, and the man disappeared into his little hut. Shortly afterward, he came back out holding a slip of paper, which he handed to me through the driver’s window. It was a visitor’s pass valid until Monday, March 11th, 2013, giving us permission to freely enter and exit the neighborhood from now on. We continued following the Mercedes, which led us through this exclusive residential area and finally stopped in the driveway of Patrick’s house. A beautiful and impressive home that Patrick called his own — and which, for the next three days, would be ours too. Now came the big round of introductions, as my ladies hadn’t met Patrick yet either. The vibe between all of us felt right, and so we stepped into the house together.

Behind the front door, we immediately found ourselves in the spacious living room, where Patrick officially welcomed us once again to Panama City Beach with a chilled glass of champagne and began an administrative introduction.
The girls were given the guest room on the upper floor, where the three of them were to share a bed. Unfortunately, the former guest room on the ground floor had been converted into his home office, so I was provided with a brand-new inflatable queen-size mattress that he had specially purchased for me, which was set up in the living room.

He even felt a bit awkward about only being able to offer me that instead of a proper room, but I thought it was fantastic that we were allowed to stay in his private home at all. On top of that, he had bought brand-new towels just for us, which he now handed over. Finally, I was even given a house key so we could come and go as we pleased – even when he wasn’t home. What a show of trust.

We were overwhelmed by his hospitality.
We unloaded the car, settled into our rooms – or in my case, my spot on the ground floor – and then we all got together to plan the rest of the evening.

Patrick suggested that we should all dress up so we could finally experience his club by night. No big discussion was needed – we immediately agreed, and the girls disappeared into the bathroom. Thankfully, I had a wonderful private bathroom on the ground floor with a spacious shower, so I wouldn’t have to share one with the ladies over the next few days.

“La Vela” – The Largest Nightclub in the USA

Around 10 p.m., we were finally ready, and the night began. The girls were like transformed – especially Melly and Mary, who were now fully in their element. “The party queens were born.”

Patrick pulled up again in his Mercedes, and I followed behind with three excited girls in the car, heading into our first thrilling Spring Break night.

I should definitely mention that none of us had eaten much since midday (our last stop had been Pizza Hut just before arriving in Panama City), and now, on empty stomachs, we were about to hit the alcohol. It’s probably easy to imagine that this would have consequences.

The transformation on the streets was like night and day – literally. Thomas Drive, the main road running parallel to the beach and the center of the nightlife scene, was already bursting with life. Everything was lit up in colorful neon.

You couldn’t miss “La Vela” – its huge glowing sign towered at least 15 meters high and was visible from quite a distance.

After we parked the car and the girls had freshened up, we met Patrick at the entrance. Now, about the process at the door: Since we were entering the club with the boss himself, there was of course no entry fee, and we were immediately given our VIP wristbands. However, we still had to show our IDs. Since I definitely don’t look 18 or younger anymore, I found it quite amusing that I still had to show mine. Patrick took the lead and first showed us the main area, which also connected to the VIP section and gave access to the other two areas, like the Black Music section, for example. But we stayed in the VIP area for now, where Patrick immediately made sure we had drinks so we could toast to a great evening – and to the fact that we were finally there. We started with Vodka Red Bulls, and things got fun really fast.

The Evil, Evil Alcohol…

I had to hold myself back a little because I didn’t want to get completely wasted that evening. I suddenly realized I hadn’t eaten much all day, and I still planned to drive back myself later that night. Patrick was already well on his way and grabbed Melly to personally show her around the different areas and bars. Later I found out that almost every bar they visited came with at least one round of shots. Melly’s empty stomach would end up being the death sentence for her sobriety. She got more and more into it as the evening went on—and more and more frequently disappeared.

The highlight of the VIP area was the private, hidden VIP bathroom, which you could only access through a kind of secret door. That same door also led to the “secret passages” that allowed staff—or Patrick himself—to move between areas without having to go through the guest space. Basically, these were service corridors that connected all the bars, the main DJ booth, and the offices. Naturally, no one could really tell who had gone where once someone disappeared through that door.

Melly vanished inside. Mary wasn’t feeling well, slumped sleepily on the couch and half-dozing. Kathy was off exploring the club on her own. I felt a bit like the one responsible for keeping an eye on everyone to make sure nothing went wrong. It was our very first night at the club, and I already felt like it was spiraling out of control. Melly wasn’t coming back. And after Kathy said she’d quickly go look for her—and still hadn’t returned after 30 minutes—I grabbed Mary, who still wasn’t feeling great, and we both left the club and drove back to the house.

“Great first night,” I thought to myself, thoroughly annoyed. Once we got home, Mary disappeared into her room and I went straight to bed, falling asleep instantly.

I was suddenly jolted awake when things got loud outside the front door. A taxi had just pulled up, and the rest of the crew—Patrick and a close friend of his included—tumbled out. Kathy was the only one still remotely aware of her actions. The others were completely smashed. Patrick disappeared into his room right away, and his friend and Melly were still chatting at maximum alcohol level.

Being sober in that kind of environment is tough. And I didn’t exactly have the option to retreat—my bed was in the living room. Eventually, Melly wandered off to her room too, and Patrick’s friend flopped onto the couch near me and instantly passed out. Finally… peace in the house.

March 9, 2013
Panama City Beach – Northern Florida

Sometime around 8 a.m., I woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep. The living room was brightly lit by the sun pouring through the large windows. I soon heard noise from upstairs—Patrick, clearly nursing a nasty hangover, came stumbling down the stairs and greeted me with a “Good morning.” He was already dressed enough to tell me he was heading to the club and wouldn’t be back for a while. We could come by later if we wanted to. And with that—poof—he was gone.

His friend had apparently left even earlier; I vaguely remembered hearing that through my half-sleep around 7 a.m. Now the house was quiet again. God, I was starving. I desperately needed food, and the girls still seemed to be sleeping. So I jumped into the shower—which felt amazing after that kind of night—got dressed, and headed out in the car to find the nearest source of sustenance.

That turned out to be a bright yellow “M” that caught my eye just about two miles down the road. Two clear advantages to this solo trip to McDonald’s:

1. I finally got to eat again.

2. I finally had some peace and quiet.

I enjoyed my pancakes, oatmeal, and coffee while keeping in touch with my German friends via tablet. Thank you, McDonald’s, for the free Wi-Fi. Bless you.

After about half an hour, Melly suddenly messaged me on WhatsApp (side note: I had logged into the Wi-Fi with my phone as well to upload some photos):
“Where are you?”
“I’m having breakfast.”
“Without us?”
“Needed some time to myself, and you were all still asleep. I’ll be back soon,” I replied. After her “Okay,” everything went quiet again.

Being the nice guy I am, I made a stop at the supermarket on the way home and picked up donuts, apples, and other tasty treats to cheer up the three hungover mouths back at the house. When I got back, everyone was awake—but none of them looked even remotely alive yet.

Melly in particular was really struggling and deeply shaken by what had happened the night before. There were blackouts—she couldn’t remember everything, and she was embarrassed about how she had behaved. She just wasn’t feeling well. She sat on the terrace like a picture of misery, and seeing her like that, I couldn’t be mad at her anymore. Honestly, I just wanted to give her a hug and tell her, “Chin up—thank God nothing really happened. And that pounding headache is your own cross to bear.”

My little snack for everyone was like a drop in the ocean—it made no difference at all, because everyone wanted a proper meal. So we spontaneously set out to find a restaurant that would make everyone happy. After a short cruise through Panama City Beach, we found a place that looked good and headed inside.

Now everyone was happy and content. Well, not everyone—Melly was still feeling rough, but I had made it my mission to cheer her up and take her mind off things. Actually, the plan had been to take some great club photos with Patrick, which were supposed to appear in Germany’s BILD newspaper on Monday, March 11.

That was the plan I had agreed on with BILD editor M. Voisin in Düsseldorf before my departure. The story was supposed to be: “A guy from Düsseldorf celebrates Spring Break in Florida.” The photos were to be taken on Saturday and sent to her via email on Sunday morning.

Damn. Suddenly the sky turned cloudy — and that was definitely not what I wanted in the photos. Still, we headed to the club, and while Melly and I went inside, the other two decided to explore the area a bit. Now it was getting a little chilly, too, and the vibe just didn’t feel right for capturing the perfect Spring Break moment to showcase back in Germany.

From the upper terrace, Melly and I watched the beach and the scene unfolding there. Despite the cool temperatures, the American girls were throwing a wild party in the tiniest bikinis. Meanwhile, Patrick showed up — he had a ProSieben TV crew in tow who, as every year, wanted him to explain why Spring Break is such a big deal and why the students go so wild.

As if that would ever change from one year to the next. It was kind of funny to now see the production process behind what we’d only ever seen on German television through Patrick himself. We stood right behind the cameraman — but even so, we decided to say goodbye and left the club.

One of a Kind – My Mister-UniQue Spring Break 2013 Cap

We strolled around for a bit and ended up in a huge PCB (Panama City Beach) merchandise store — and I swear, we didn’t come out until two hours later. No joke, by the time we stepped outside, it was already dark. So what had kept us in there for so long?

Well, first of all, we ran into Mary and Katy again inside the store — and when women go shopping together, time just flies. And second, there was a guy in the store who turned ordinary baseball caps into unique pieces of art using airbrush — and at an insanely good price. So of course, all of us wanted our own hand-crafted cap.

Actually, this would have gone pretty quickly — but once women start thinking about what they actually want on that thing, it gets complicated. And, once again, Melly was the most extreme case. Her decision-making process took an eternity, and just when we finally got her to settle on a design, she thought the result on the cap looked crap. And by then, it was already dark. When we got back inside, it had started to rain, so we decided to spend a relaxed evening at home — and after everything that happened last night, we collapsed into bed completely exhausted.

10.03.2013

Panama City Beach – Nord Florida

During the night, the rain had stopped, and the early morning greeted us with a perfect, cloudless sky. The sun smiled at us, and I just knew — today was going to be epic. After the sleep deprivation of the past few days, the night had finally recharged our batteries, and we were ready to dive headfirst into Spring Break.

First thing on my list today: I absolutely needed to get those photos for BILD, so I could keep my end of the deal and make sure the article would be in tomorrow’s Monday edition.

Wait… That’s supposed to be a Cordon Bleu?

But first, breakfast! We found a breakfast spot with the charming name “Egg & I” — and we knew we had to try it. Let me tell you, it did not disappoint. Even Melly, our self-proclaimed gourmet critic, left full and happy.

One little tip though: if you’re ordering something from the menu that sounds familiar — don’t expect it to look like what you know. I mean… just look at that Cordon Bleu. (See photo)

Now it was finally time to head to the club. Today was really warm, probably around 27 to 30 degrees Celsius, and the conditions for the perfect photo couldn’t have been better. The beach was absolutely buzzing. Not just right in front of La Vela, but as far as the eye could see, the sand was packed with crowds, bikinis, and endless girls. I just thought to myself in that moment: I love America.

Patrick was already aware of the time pressure I was under due to the time difference and the urgent need for the photo. He immediately had the best idea and pointed to the La Vela stage on the beach, where bikini girls were firing up the crowd – which was about 90 percent male. “That’s where you’ll get the hottest shot,” he said, and we rushed down there.

Once we got on stage, I have to admit, I instantly felt completely at ease among the friendly and very scantily clad ladies, who were seductively dancing in sync to the pounding beats, moving closely and sensually together. They were clearly enjoying putting on a show for the overwhelmingly male audience.

Photos were taken non-stop, then quickly reviewed in Patrick’s office with his club photographer, and the best three were immediately emailed to Mrs. Voisin in Germany. Our mission was accomplished.

In hindsight, I unfortunately have to mention that this journalist did not keep her word, and in the end, no article about me was ever published. Perhaps the photos were too decent and not provocative enough, as she might have expected. Since she never responded to me again, I’ll never know.

I’m not upset about the article itself, but what did bother me was that Patrick initially saw me in a bad light—thinking that I might have made up some story just to get those pictures taken. Luckily, he told me later in Florida not to worry so much and, honestly, who really needs BILD anyway?

I have nothing to reproach myself for, since I kept my part of the deal. So let’s forget this ungrateful chapter of the journey and return to a beautiful day in Panama City Beach.

My ladies were already basking extensively by the pool inside the club, soaking up the sunny weather to the fullest. From the pool, you could spot the most bizarre characters—like two guys in Borat-style swimwear clearly trying to grab the ladies’ attention. And it actually seemed to work—whether in a good way is up for debate, but the girls found it amusing nonetheless.

Then there was this extremely drunk girl, awkwardly snuggling up to every hot girl around in her bikini, clearly trying to turn on the guys nearby. Her behavior, though, inspired more pity than excitement. Later that afternoon, we found out she was actually married to a German guy who had been standing nearby the whole time. Apparently, they both worked at Disney World in Orlando and had fallen in love there. But he seemed completely unfazed by the embarrassing spectacle she was putting on. Well… to each their own.

Suddenly, Patrick showed up with drinks in hand and said he’d love to invite us to dinner soon—asked if we were up for it and maybe already a little hungry. He wanted to take us to a really good restaurant where we could get plenty of fresh fish. Of course, we were delighted by his invitation and thanked him right away. Since he had a long party night planned with us, it definitely made sense not to repeat the mistake of the first evening—and to start off with a proper meal.

The restaurant was fantastic. We thoroughly enjoyed the meal and finally had some quiet time to talk with Patrick and really get to know each other better. In the process, we also saw a very personal and thoughtful side of him. Somehow, after sharing that meal, something shifted between us—it just clicked. The chemistry was right. And now, nothing stood in the way of an epic party. We were fueled up, feeling great, and ready for some serious fun.

La Vela was calling! The party must go on…

Tonight, the DJ duo Gabriel & Dresden were headlining the main room at La Vela, and once again, we had our own little corner in the VIP area. Patrick immediately ordered plenty of drinks so we could all really let loose—and that’s exactly what we did.

ProSieben was back in action tonight, and Patrick had made sure to bring plenty of hot girls into the VIP area just for that. Among the four hottest ladies who got to appear on camera with Patrick was a stunning American from Indianapolis named Caitlin.

I can only say that she had me hooked at first sight. We had already exchanged a few glances, but for her, work came first.

After the TV recording was wrapped up, Patrick returned to the couch with my three ladies, and nothing stood in the way of me getting in touch with Caitlin. After a perfect day, this was the perfect ending. The mood was great, the drinks were flowing, and we all continued celebrating together. As is often the case, her friends eventually got a bit restless and wanted to head to another club. Caitlin didn’t want to stay behind alone, so we exchanged numbers to meet up again the following evening. She then said goodbye and hurried after her friends, who were already heading toward the exit.

Slowly but surely, despite having eaten beforehand, we were all reaching that pleasantly tipsy stage, and by 3:30 a.m. we decided to call it a night and take a taxi home. Once we got back, it was Patrick’s turn to thank us for the wonderful evening. He told us how much he enjoyed our company and invited us to stay another two nights if we felt like it. We were surprised by the offer at first, but gratefully accepted—it felt so comfortable at his place. Somehow, it had started to feel like one big family, strange as that may sound.

Before we all collapsed into our beds, dead tired, we suggested going out for breakfast together tomorrow morning — or rather, in a few hours — and everyone happily agreed.
Good night, John Boy.

March 11, 2013
Panama City Beach – Northern Florida

The day began very leisurely at the Pfeffer residence. The sky was overcast, and the air felt like it might rain later. A far cry from the dream weather we had enjoyed the day before. In the end, it was only hunger that got us all out of the house shortly after 11 a.m.

But before we could get to our breakfast, we first had to pick up our cars, which we had left in front of the club the night before. Said and done—we picked up our cars from the club and, on the way back to the house, came across a fantastic bakery called Andy’s Flour Power Bakery, where you could also have breakfast.

The sandwiches were a dream, and the girls didn’t miss the chance to stock up on sweet pastries from the counter for the rest of the day.

I had the feeling that Patrick was really enjoying hanging out with us—being able to speak his old mother tongue again and having some lively company around the house.

After breakfast, Patrick said goodbye to head back to the club, check on things, and prepare for the evening. That’s when we—especially the girls—decided that we should cook dinner for Patrick tonight.

After picking up all the ingredients at Publix, we headed back home to spend the rest of the day relaxing on the terrace and in the pool.

When Patrick came home in the evening, he was completely blown away by what was served to him.

A deluxe salad with all the trimmings, only topped by the freshly baked bread that was served with it. None of us really felt the urge to go out partying that evening — not even Patrick himself — so we decided to crash on the couch and just chill.

Funnily enough, Patrick suddenly dug out the DVDs of the TV documentaries about him, which German stations like RTL and ProSieben had sent him after they aired. He had never actually watched them himself. I found it genuinely amusing to watch Patrick seeing himself on TV and telling us behind-the-scenes stories from the filming. Honestly, those stories were often far more interesting than what we were watching on the screen.

March 12, 2013
Panama City Beach – Northern Florida

Last Day in Paradise – Our final day had arrived, and we definitely wanted to end it with a top-tier highlight before heading off to Orlando the next morning.

6,000 Party Animals Celebrate MTV Star DJ Pauly D at the Club

DJ Pauly D was performing at La Vela, and we definitely didn’t want to miss that. Let’s put it this way — at first, I didn’t really care much about Pauly D. But then friends started leaving comments on Facebook saying how jealous they were that I was going to see this guy live tonight. Okay, now I get it — he was part of the popular MTV show Jersey Shore and clearly has a serious fan base. And it became crystal clear that his level of fame in the U.S. is on a whole other level compared to back home.

To get to the point: the club was packed. Nearly 6,000 people wanted to see and party with him. Absolute madness. Before we joined Patrick for one last epic farewell party, we had already tidied up the apartment, did laundry in his machine, cleaned up, and spent the rest of the day relaxing by the pool.

In the evening, we all got dressed to the nines — we looked absolutely flawless — and, with a bit of wistfulness knowing it was our final night, we drove to La Vela.

Around 10:30 p.m., we already saw the signs in the parking lot of what was to come: a venue that was about to burst at the seams. The line at the entrance was at least 100 meters long, and more and more people kept pouring into the lot. Thankfully, we were able to walk past it without any issues and were inside in no time. Alongside Naughty by Nature, who were already a highlight for many as the opening act, it was clear that everyone was waiting for the little Italian guy. The VIP section was absolutely packed tonight and had already been sold well in advance for $20,000 to a distinguished group for this special evening.

Without going into too much detail, I can say this much: Caitlin showed up too – and that really made the night for me. DJ Pauly D absolutely rocked the place, and I’m glad I got to experience this party at La Vela with all these amazing people. It’s a night I’ll never forget. Not because of Pauly D, but because of the incredible vibe and the great crowd. Okay… and maybe also because of Caitlin. *smile

Just before Pauly D wrapped up his set, Patrick took us to the backstage area, where we got to experience his final moments up close — and shortly after, that led to a quick meet & greet with him.

I can only say that in person, Pauly came across as very reserved and shy. Just a nice guy. By 3 a.m., the night was over for us too, and we headed back to the house feeling totally happy.

– FYI: Costs for Pauly D: $20,000 (for him) + $10,000 (expenses, hotel, flight, entourage)

March 13, 2013

Panama City Beach – Northern Florida

Five days went by so quickly. I’m truly happy that I got to experience the real and authentic Spring Break at least once in my life.

Thanks, Patrick, for all the amazing impressions of Spring Break in America!

I especially want to thank our host Patrick once again for welcoming us so warmly and making these days truly unforgettable. Thank you, Patrick – you’ve really become a friend and a buddy.

By late morning, we packed up the car, said goodbye to Patrick, and set off on our longest leg of the journey – 540 kilometers all the way to Orlando.

How the journey continued, what our time in Orlando was like, and all the highlights from the theme parks Universal Studios and Islands of Adventure… you’ll find out in part seven of my travel diary.