We are plunging through darkness when the window lights up with an explosion of neon signs; the plane zooms past blinking hotels and nightclubs before we touch down. The RyanAir fanfare goes off and the passengers cheer. We have arrived at party island Ibiza. Fast-forward 12 hours and I am lying by the pool, surrounded by (more or less) bikini-clad lesbian, bisexual and queer women, sipping another cocktail from the all-inclusive bar. DJ Soon, one of many international acts this weekend, is pumping out tunes and everywhere women are dancing, chatting, floating on pizza-shaped inflatables and generally soaking up the feeling of a carefree, sun-kissed homo holiday. Velvet Ibiza, the self-proclaimed wildest women-only weekend and Ibiza’s first and only festival of its kind, is in full swing.