Bundy, Ballers, and Boats

When this day began, we had absolutely no idea how it was going to end. We had caught the ferry to Hvar, a place well known for its party scene, but somehow our first night ended up being far better than we could ever have expected. Not much happened during the day. We wandered around town, took it easy, and eventually decided that, as the afternoon rolled around, it was probably time for a few drinks at the hostel.
We had made friends with the receptionist, who recommended that we check out Hula Hula, supposedly a "beach party" just north of town. When we arrived, it turned out to be little more than a cramped deck overlooking the water, but it was still a good place for a few sunset drinks.

This was where things started to get interesting.

As we walked out to find a toilet Jack made a comment to some passing strangers that they “looked Aussie as fuck”. After a brief chat, we learnt that not only were they Queenslanders, but they also grew on the Sunny Coast in the suburb next to Wurtulla. We talked about life on the Coast quickly before they said they had to go because they were about to have shots with D-Lo – assuming this was the name of some DJ, Jack and I thought nothing of it. We proceeded to go and grab a couple of beers at the bar, €10 each was brutal, but this ended up being all the money we would spend for the rest of the night. When the guys came back, they asked if we knew who D'Angelo Russell was, or D-Lo for short. That's when we realised, we just missed out on an opportunity to have shots with one of the top point guards in the NBA.

They explained that their dad knew him and that he had come over to their private booth. I later found out that their dad was the CEO of a major tech company that had sponsored the Golden State Warriors, where D'Angelo Russell had previously played. I did, however, manage to run into D'Angelo on my way to the bathroom and sneak a photo with him, so I wasn't completely empty-handed.

The guys then invited Jack and me over to their private booth, where we met their dad and the rest of the family. It was immediately obvious that they were wealthy, but we still hadn't quite grasped just how wealthy until they invited us onto their yacht. We drank with them for a while, and as everyone started to leave, I got talking to their dad, Greg. He mentioned that they had a yacht and invited me on board for a Bundaberg Rum. I couldn't have cared less about the Bundy Rum, but the idea of getting onto a private yacht was another story. I couldn't call Jack quickly enough to tell him what was happening and get him to come back. He ran back to the club to meet us, and we were then picked up by an inflatable dinghy and ferried across to the yacht with around ten people. Most of the group were women who, like us, seemed to have noticed the kind of money this family had.

Even the boat ride over was surreal. The sun was setting as we sped across the water towards a private yacht, and by this point, Jack and I had already been shouted countless drinks by the family. When we finally arrived, we were completely in awe. Ironically, this meant we forgot to take many photos. We already felt completely out of place and didn't want to make it even more obvious by walking around taking photos of everything. We were greeted with warm towels and cocktails, but Greg told the staff to pour a Bundy for him and me. We sat down and chatted over the rum, which was how I learnt more about his connection to D'Angelo Russell.

The rest of the night just kept getting crazier. Jack and I received the full millionaire treatment. We were offered drink after drink, rides on the boat and pretty much anything else we could have asked for. Carpe Diem, one of the most famous clubs in Hvar, is located on a private island that you need to take a boat to reach. Entry costs around €40, but Greg had conveniently parked the yacht right outside and told us the crew would take us across whenever we wanted. Greg had paid €500 for a private booth at Carpe Diem that he never even ended up using. We were having far too much fun on the yacht to leave.

We managed to get a photo of the yacht's name, and some later research revealed just how ridiculous the whole thing was. Renting the yacht reportedly costs around €125,000 — roughly $200,000 AUD — for a week. That price includes two jet skis, a jacuzzi and a crew of around ten people. Unbelievable. We had gone from paying €10 for a beer at a cramped beach bar to spending the night on a private yacht worth hundreds of thousands of dollars a week.

Safe to say, this was one of the most unexpected days of the entire trip.Read more